Written for: spring_with_xan
Rating: NC 17
Characters: The characters are not ours, we're just playin' with 'em
Concrits: welcome in comments. Unbetaed – please do let me know if I need to make edits.
Summary: Sometimes you hurt the ones you love. Will Spike listen to his heart instead of what he felt and saw? Can he forgive?
That had been a nice long swim under the moonlight, but now Spike was ready for some sex to warm up his blood. As they walked toward the beach house they’d rented, his hands shot out to catch Xander who seemed to be rushing to get back.
At his lover’s startled look, Spike gave him a smug smile as he pulled him up against him and kissed him. His body slid against Xander’s wet skin as he walked him backwards and forced him up against the porch post. “Come on love, no one’s watching,” he assured, dragging his hand down Xander’s side to the top of his swim shorts. Already, his cock was raging and hard.
"I know but...oh do that again," Xander pressed back into Spike's hand as it brushed over a sensitive spot just under his waist. "but I want to be comfortable," he continued. "If we do this here it will end too fast, I want to enjoy it." He smiled and dragged spike closer for a kiss.
As Spike wove his tongue in and out, tangling it with Xander’s, he stroked the boy... everywhere he liked to be touched, nice, easy touches. “I can go slow,” he growled, even as he ground his hips into Xander.
"Inside," Xander insisted. It took him a few moments to work up the will to step away but, thinking of how important this was, he grabbed Spike's arm and moved back. "Inside," he repeated.
“Oh yeah... plan to be inside,” Spike smirked, following him up the steps with a definitely predatory gleam in his eyes. When they reached the door, he cupped Xander’s cock, then slowly started to go down on his knees. He wasn’t one to give up so easily.
"Spike, no!" Xander yelped. He stepped further back, out of reach. "Come on, the faster we get inside the faster you can get inside," he laughed as Spike pouted up at him.
“Right. There’s always tomorrow,” Spike complained, knowing he’d need to work Xander up into a state when he least expected it. That was one way to get the boy over his fear of being seen having gloriously good sex.
Slamming the door behind him with his foot, Spike pushed Xander onto the bed and followed him down. “Let’s see what you have on the inside then, shall we?”
Xander laughed as he went down. "I'm sure you'll conduct a thorough examination," he managed to say before he was silenced by Spike's mouth.
Some time later the smile had disappeared from Xander’s face. He looked down at his sleeping lover and marveled at the peaceful look on his face. Nobody would call Spike innocent, not even when he was asleep. Despite all the things he wanted, despite all the disappointments, when he was relaxed like this Spike seemed happy. Xander would do anything to keep him happy, no matter the cost.
Taking a deep breath, he finally worked up the courage to do what had to be done. Raising his hand he gripped the wooden handle tight and brought it down on Spike's chest.
Searing pain jerked Spike awake. He jackknifed up, hand moving to where it hurt... his heart... “What happ...” Blood ran through his fingers... his hand over Xander’s... around the hilt of a dagger.
Piercing blue eyes met brown even as he started to pull it out. But something was wrong... something was slowing him down, making him feel paralyzed and weak.
"Hush Spike, please, just let me..." Xander kept the pressure on the knife as he spoke, pushing down as hard as he could. He couldn't explain, but he had to do this. He could feel his eyes fill with tears but he couldn't stop, not now.
He would survive this, but not if Xander pushed the wood in. Shocked and panicked, Spike tried to stop the force of Xander’s hand, curling his fingers round Xander’s. “Why... why...”
Even as his neck and chest arched up and a cry broke from him when the blunt hilt finally entered his heart, he was asking why... why? “Why...”
"For you," Xander whispered as he finally managed to push the hilt in, "It's for you." He saw Spike shudder, felt his body ripple against him and then there was this unnatural stillness.
"Spike, you're supposed to wake up now."
It was a small funeral. There was no service, just the Scoobs saying goodbye to an old friend. Xander hadn’t explained, and Buffy couldn’t get it out of him. Who had done this? Who’d been able to sneak up on the big bad like that and get him? And why was there a body? Why hadn’t Spike dusted?
Maybe Xander was in too much shock. Maybe he’d tell her later. She and Willow gave him a big hug, and left him with the casket sitting in front of the small headstone.
Xander stood over the casket, looking down at Spike. He knew it was a cliche but Spike looked peaceful. Like he was sleeping. Xander couldn't hold on to that image, not without another one with accusing eyes and a grimace of pain superseding it.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking. "You wanted to be human so much and they promised..." he gasped as he tried to contain the tears, "they promised it would work. They said you would be fine. I didn't mean...it was supposed to help you. I'm sorry Spike, I'm so fucking sorry."
[Two years later]
World’s Edge was packed with students and twenty somethings. Spike was busier than ever, and trying to do his damnedest to be charmingly tip-worthy. The accent helped and he did use it to his advantage as much as he could.
Spike looked at the other end of the bar and saw a dark haired boy waiting patiently. “I’ve got it,” he told the other bartender.
Throwing a towel down onto the bar and wiping it, he smiled. “What can I get you, mate?”
"Strawberry margarita," Xander said. He cast a last glance around the room before he turned towards the bar. That was when he saw him. In his shock he tried to step back before he had fully completed his turn, managing to stumble on his own feet. He just about managed to save himself some pain by grabbing hold of the bar edge and keeping upright.
Spike smiled. “No worries, I wasn’t about to make any girly-drinks jokes. That’ll be a double manly strawberry marg. You got it.” As he went about making it, he watched the bundle of nerves staring at him. “Relax...yeah?”
“Relax," Xander was ashamed to say that his voice was a couple of octaves too high. "He wants me to relax," he repeated in a more normal tone. "Are you...what's your name?"
Ah... it was an attempted pick-up. The guy was probably new to being out. “Spike, or so I’m told.” He smiled at his own joke, but it was only too true. “Don’t tell me your name’s Hammer... I’ve heard that one before.”
"What? No...Spike? That's your actual name? Not William?" Xander asked, nearly stumbling over the words in his haste to get them out. This had happened before, he'd seen some guy, thought he looked like Spike but it had always been a mistake. Buffy and Willow had practically begged him to let go and he had. Or at least he thought he had but here was a bartender who not only looked like Spike, he had Spike's nickname too.
“William, open quotes, Spike, close quotes,” Spike set the drink down. That’s what it had said on the gravestone next to the casket he’d climbed out of. He was sure Stephanie, the cocktail waitress told this guy his full name. She was always helpful that way... giving people a push to get what they wanted. “That’ll be seven dollars.”
Xander stood there staring at this guy who looked like Spike, sounded like Spike and had Spike's name.
“Forgot your wallet then?” Spike made an unhappy face, then turned away to fill a couple of beer orders. He’d been stiffed before, but he wasn’t the sort to tell.
"What? No," Xander was very aware of the fact that he sounded like an idiot. He waited for Spike's attention to come back to him. As he waited he watched Spike, taking in every movement, every breath. Spike was here and he was human. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead.
Spike turned. “Put the money on the bar then? And don’t forget the bartender,” giving him a wink, he headed down to the other end of the bar to fill the cocktail waitress’ order.
The rest of the night sped by as Xander kept trying to get Spike's attention. Spike obviously didn't remember him at all and he knew he probably looked like an overeager idiot but he couldn't help himself. This was Spike and Xander couldn't get over the fact that he was here. In the end, Spike disappeared somewhere and Xander was forced to go home without getting another chance to speak to him.
The moment he stepped through the door to his apartment he picked up the phone and called Willow. He'd never told the girls what had happened but now Spike was back and he needed all the help he could get to get him back.
Spike walked into class and dropped his books down onto the desk and sat down, turning as he took a bite out of the green apple in his hand. Sitting sprawled in the chair next to him was the guy from the other night. “Hey... didn’t know you were in this class,” he said, trying to remember if he’d gotten a name.
Xander grinned brightly back, just happy to see Spike again. He'd gone back to the bar and asked around about Spike. The waitress didn't want to tell him much, wary of possible stalkers, but she did let slip that Spike took some classes at the local college so here Xander was.
"Yeah, I'm thinking of going into business by myself and I need all the help I can get."
Spike gave a nod. “Saw this movie about some bloke who made it big as a stock broker. All he had to do was survive a six month training program while he was starving and homeless. Thought I’d give it a try but I was told you need a degree to be considered.” He didn’t add that he’d been homeless himself until he’d gotten some help. School was easy for him, making ends meet wasn’t as easy when he couldn’t answer half the questions that were put to him about his past, where he’d lived, what his credit history was. The whole thing was a pain in the arse, and he hoped he was past those times in his life.
"Yeah I watched that film. Was good. So...you want to be a stockbroker?" That was new. Spike had been happy to work at the Watchers Council before. But then, maybe he didn't remember that now.
“I’d bloody better want it.” Was there a burning desire? No not really. But he wanted what the character in the movie had found... enough money to find some security, and a shot at happiness. “We all have to do something.” Glancing at the guy’s notebook, he saw his name, and added, “Alexander.”
"Xander. Nobody calls me Alexander unless they're mad at me," he smiled in what he hoped was a charming manner. Just then the professor requested their attention and Xander had to stop watching Spike and watch him instead.
Xander. That name made Spike feel all sorts of weird, and he didn’t know why.
Class was dismissed and Spike swept his books up as he stood. “Later, yeah?” Usually sure of himself, he was now a bit wary of sun-shine boy.
"Wait!" Xander exclaimed loudly. "Erm...I was wondering...I missed a couple of classes. Maybe you could help me? I could buy you a beer in exchange," he said hopefully.
Spike stared at him in indecision. What the hell? He gave a nod. “I don’t think my place would be good for it. I have three flat mates, it gets noisy. Where do you want to do it?”
"You could come to my place?" Xander offered. He tried to remember whether he'd taken out the trash, if there was underwear lying on his couch. "Tonight, about eight?" It would give him a chance to clean up
“Done.” Spike got the details and headed out.
He didn’t know why he was nervous, he wasn’t prone to being this way. But something about Xander was getting to him, and now this place... even as he knocked at the door, a strange feeling swept of him. He tried to look casual, leaning against the frame, with one forearm resting on it.
Xander looked around the room one last time, making sure nothing too embarrassing was around. Satisfied that it all looked okay he opened the door.
"Hey there. Come in, come in. " He stepped aside, trying ignore the weirdness of inviting Spike in the apartment that used to be his own.
Spike strolled inside and felt a weight press on his chest. It was only an apartment, but he was gaping at the things in it.... a million questions tumbling in his brain but he could even formulate and spit out one bloody question.
"Do you erm...do you want something to drink?" Xander hovered near the doorway to the living room, consumed by nervous energy.
“God yes. Erm... beer?” He looked toward the kitchen, just knowing where it was, then back at Xander.
"Sure. I got Stella, you u- erm, you might like that." He actually used to love that. Spike had been the one to talk Xander into trying the beer, going on about how American beer tasted like piss next to it.
“You’ve got Stella... yeah, I’ll take it.” He followed Xander, the stopped him and turned him around. “Do you know me? Do you?”
"W-who? Me?" Xander stammered. Willow had made him promise to be careful and not to say anything until they knew for sure what had happened to Spike and he'd messed it up on the first day!
Spike let him go and ran a shakey hand through his hair. “No one else here but you and me here Harris. You think I’m crazy?” he should leave. Maybe he was just imagining things.
"No, no, I think I am," Xander said before he could stop himself.
“Why?” He stood stock still. “Look I... something happened to me and I can’t remember past... past a few years back. If you know me, please tell me.” When the silence grew too long, Spike grabbed Xander’s shirt and yanked him. “Harris tell me.”
“I erm...I think I know you but I was wrong before so I don't know." Spike kept looking at him. "I don't know! I...I thought I saw you so many times and it was never you so I don't know!"
He didn’t understand what Xander was saying or trying to say, but he started putting things together. “You knew my name. You looked at me like you’d seen a ghost...” he frowned. “You have my beer in your fridge...”
Suddenly his mind was filled with images. Xander... blabbing away, saying things to him. He snapped out of it. “Bleach for brains?”
"What?" Xander was getting tired of that word but still it kept popping out of his mouth.
“I remember... you called me that. Why? Who are you? Who the bloody fuck am I? Why couldn’t they find me? The police... the hospitals... can’t tell me my name. I saw it on the grave stone.” The questions tumbled out now. He’d gone back to the cemetery, and found the plot had been paid for in cash and there was no information as to who his ‘relatives’ were. Clearly someone had thought he was dead. They’d been wrong.
"I don't know! All I know is you were...," Xander breathed in deeply. He had to control himself. "You were dead and then two years later you're a bartender."
“There was a mistake... I woke. It was dark. I was scared. The lid was heavy... I couldn’t hear anything from outside.” Spike blanched as he remembered. “I finally got it open, and I was alone. Where do I belong?” His gaze locked with Xander’s. “Who are you to me?” He’d seen interest in Xander’s gaze, but maybe it was something else.
"I...I...Maybe we should sit down," Xander stammered. Spike seemed intent on getting some answers right here right now but then Spike had had two years to get used to not remembering. Xander had two days to get used to Spike being alive.
Nodding, Spike first got two beers from the fridge. A jolt of heat ran up his arm when their fingers brushed. “Go on,” he said, moving slightly away but not sitting down.
Xander popped the can open and took a healthy swallow. "I'm still in shock," he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get it off his face and failing miserably. "What do you remember exactly?"
Staring at him, a bit frustrated by the lack of answers, Spike squeezed the can in his hand and started to quickly drink to avoid the mess of a spill. “Nothing. Not until tonight, anyway. Earlier... I remembered you talking to me. I don’t know what you were saying... except for the bleach thing.”
"So beyond the last two years, it's all a blank?" How the fuck was he supposed to explain that Spike was really a vampire, with a soul, who turned human after his own lover stabbed him in the heart. Literally. "Fuck."
“Fuck?” Spike blinked. “We fucked?” He could buy that. “Fuck mates, then?”
"No! I mean yes but no. We did...do that but it wasn't like that. I was just exclaiming! You know! Fuck? Bugger? Dear God?!" In a burst of energy Xander stood up and started pacing the room.
Fuck. Bugger. God... oh God. In his mind, Spike saw them doing just that... shouting and pleading for God, even as they came. "You liked me on top," he smirked, looking at Xander's ass.
"You said you didn't remember anything," Xander pointed out. "Do you... did you really forget all about me?" he asked hesitantly.
Spike nodded. "Just started remembering when... Your name was familiar. And just now, I saw these flashes. Are you really going to make me guess?" he wasn't happy with how slowly he was getting the information he needed. "Really don't need baby steps here."
"Easy for you to say, you knew you weren't dead," Xander countered. Then paused for a moment, "Okay, that made more sense in my head."
A weird tension filled the air. Spike crossed the room, sat down and put his hands in his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
"If you remembered you'd know that I rarely ever do," he tried to joke but it fell flat even in his own ears. "I knew you, I thought I knew you, well. Then I thought you were dead. You have to give me some time to get used to the fact that it's really you, Spike, that I'm not insane!"
Spike looked up. “I’ve been feeling that way for two years. Didn’t bloody well know who I was, or where to...” He’d had nothing to his name, eaten from garbage cans, shared bottles with other homeless people... until he figured out a plan to get out of the nightmare. “I need to know who I am. If you’re not prepared to tell me, then give me a name. Someone more helpful.”
The flashes hit him again. Xander passing him donuts. Tickling him. Spike rubbed his eyes. Blowing in his ear. “You fancied me, I know that much.”
Yeah well you fancied me right back." Xander took another swig of his beer.
"I met you when I was...no, I'll start at the end maybe? Work my way back?" There might be less strange if he skipped the bit where Spike was trying to kill them. Maybe if he stuck to the personal stuff.
“Start anywhere.” His gaze flicked to the empty place next to him. “Sit.”
"You obviously know your name," Xander said. He sat gingerly next to Spike, careful to keep any part of them from touching. "We were together for a few years. Our friends, we had the same friends. Actually you were friends with the rest of them before me. We sort of didn't like each other at first."
“Right,” he drawled. “I knew you liked me the minute you dropped by the bar. So you saw me, liked me, but pretended you didn’t. Then?” Despite the seriousness of the moment, he was distracted by Xan’s tongue flicking out to nervously lick his lower lip.
"I honestly didn't like you at first," Xander protested. He couldn't help but smile at Spike's reaction. They had that argument many times before, with Spike insisting that the only reason Xander didn't like him was that he was unbelievably attracted to him. "You were a bit of an ass. Still, we worked together for a while and you kinda grew on me. Like a fungus," he added, smirking at Spike.
It irked him... the denial. It was illogical of course. Determined, Spike cupped Xander’s chin and moved toward him, invading his space. “Tell me again, you didn’t like me.”
"I didn't," Xander whispered, "Then I did and we made up for lost time. Can you kiss me now?"
Dark eyes, pools of emotion that tugged at him. Spike forgot his bruised ego, instead moving his hand down along the column of Xander’s throat, hooking it behind his nape and drawing him close. The instant their mouths touched, he knew how Xander would taste... how he’d feel. Not just kissing, but under him. How he’d sound...
Those thoughts overpowered his intent to keep it light. Instead, he pushed his tongue inside Xander’s mouth and rediscovered all of it’s pleasures. No wonder they’d fucked... he wanted to now, just like that.
Xander closed his eyes and sank into the kiss, reveling in the feeling of Spike's mouth against his after all this time. He'd missed this so much and now it was here and holy fuck but it felt good.
Breaking the kiss, but keeping his mouth moving over Xander’s throat, Spike asked, “you fell for me, then what? Where are my parents?”
Xander hmmed in reply, tilting his head to give Spike more access.
“Do they live here, hmm?” Seeing there was no resistance, Spike escalated, tugging Xander’s shirt up. His hands freely roved over his taut abs. “Go on.”
"N-no parents," Xander gasped as Spike trailed his fingers down his side. "More kissing," he added. He wrapped his hand around Spike's nape and pulled him forward for another kiss.
Unable to resist, Spike gave him what he asked for, kissing him soundly, moving his mouth back and forth over him, touching him... each of Xander’s shudders and reactions making his own body respond. “They’re dead then? What about friends, who are my friends?” He spoke against Xander’s ear, before sucking on his ear lobe.
"Spike, just... oh right there," Xander stopped talking in favor of covering Spike's hand and reminding him of where he liked to be touched.
“You talk, I’ll touch,” Spike commanded, lowering his head to Xander’s waist, and nipping him lightly before kissing that spot better. “Tell me where I live.” He started lifting his head, but he wanted to hear Xander’s intake of breath again... it did things to his insides. This time, he used his tongue as his weapon of choice.
"H-here," Xander moaned, "I c-an't talk if you do, oh God, that."
“Right here... yeah,” he gave a smug smile. “Now tell me where I was living.” Mouth open, he moved back and forth over Xander’s smooth skin, slowly working circles that wore progressively bigger, and leading him down toward the clearly visible bulge in his jeans.
Xander's only reply was to shift his body and arch, in an attempt to get Spike to move lower, faster. "Please, Spike."
Smirking, Spike met Xander’s eyes. “Tell me now you didn’t like me the moment you saw me.” For emphasis, he used two hands to roughly pop the top button of Xander’s jeans.
"If you stop, I won't like you now," Xander replied. His hands went back to hold Spike's head, forcing him to look up. "I loved you for years. Still do. Please, please, shut up and fuck me?"
“Thought you’d never ask.” Suddenly, Spike was just as ready as Xander. Maybe it was the pleading in Xander’s gaze, or the fact he’d used the L word. All this time, when no one came for him, he’d wondered if he’d been such a terrible person... that not a single person loved him.
In a single motion, he pulled Xander’s pants completely off. His shorts had been dragged down his thighs, leaving him exposed. His cock was pointing straight at Spike... an invitation that was too hard to refuse.
Lowering his mouth over Xander, he took him deep into his throat, sucking and dragging his lips up his shaft, waiting for those whimpers that he knew would come. His soul was remembering what his mind hadn’t yet.
He hadn't realized how much he needed this, how much he needed Spike until just now. He had buried the memories, the need, after the third time he thought he saw Spike on the street. He couldn't handle the emotions so he'd stomped on them until they were numb. But now, with Spike's mouth on him, Spike's hands holding his hips tightly, everything was coming back, stronger than ever before. "Please, Spike, please."
Spike would have teased him some more, but he thought he saw a tear glistening in the corner of Xander’s eye. It hurt.
Lifting up, he kissed the tear away, then took his shirt off, and worked on his pants. “Straight to the fucking then.”
“Oh God, yes." Xander watched Spike undress, eyes following every move. When the scar across Spike's chest was revealed, his breath caught. He'd done that, he'd hurt Spike like that. "Now," he said. He grabbed Spike's hand and dragged him down on top of him on the couch.
“You’ve very eager. Must have missed me, then,” he said very surely. He prepared Xander as fast as he could, even through he wasn’t getting much cooperation... what with the pulling and begging, only someone with superpowers could resist. Though he was doing a bloody good job of it, if anyone asked him.
His gaze swept over Xander’s chest, and his heart beat that much the harder against his own. His cock started to pulse and throb at the thought of being inside Xander. He rubbed against his opening a few times, the pushed inside, at the same time lifting Xanders leg up, and at the same time covering his mouth in hard kiss.
Xander's breath caught in his throat and he fought not to clench at the sudden intrusion. Despite the flash of pain, this was what he wanted. This was what he needed, Spike inside him, around him.
"Need you," he whispered against Spike's lips.
“Right here.” Spike drove into him, cupping his face with one hand, this time kissing him lightly in stark contrast the focused fucking he was giving, moving slightly each time he buried himself, aiming for Xander’s pleasure point... relentlessly hitting it again and again.
"Yes," Xander breathed, "here, yes."
He pressed a hand on Spike's nape, looking into his eyes, enjoying the pleasure he found there. His other hand splayed against Spike's chest, covering the scar.
“Good, so good,” Spike locked gazes with him. Xander’s calloused hands grazing his now sensitized skin was driving him over the edge. Using every bit of concentration he could muster, he went the extra mile to fuck him harder and longer, but eventually threw his head back as he came hard and fast. One part of his mind registered Xander’s own cry, and the happy smile playing on his lips.
“Don’t know how I managed to forget that. I won’t ever again,” Spike promised, looking down at the hands still lovingly stroking his chest.
And then there it was... another flash. A hand on his chest, this hand.... blood pouring between his fingers. Startled, Spike blinked. His face blanched as panic set in.
Xander smiled, eyes closed in pleasure. He wanted to enjoy the afterglow for as long as possible. "Promise?"
How could he act so well? Bastard. Bitter disappointment and pain filled Spike. He didn’t answer, but he did pull out and start to search under the cushions. He wasn’t about to be blindsided again. Not ever.
"Spike? What's wrong?" Xander pushed up on his elbows and looked at Spike.
“Where is it? Where’s the bloody knife?” he demanded, lifting the cushion right under Xander’s ass, then bending to get his jeans. At the same time, he swept his hand under the sofa, just in case.
"W-what?" Xander stammered, shocked at the hatred and accusation in Spike's voice.
“This how you get your jollies? Lure a bloke to your bed, then...” he got up, didn’t even take his shirt. “I remember. You did it. You stabbed me, and then you tried to bury me alive.” He staggered backwards toward the door. So many things didn’t make sense, but he knew what he’d seen... and he knew it was real.
"Spike no! That wasn't how it was, I swear."
Xander got up and moved towards Spike, desperate to stop him. Spike stepped away though, hating him. "Spike, please wait I can explain!"
Spike hesitated only long enough to remember the final blow.... his struggle to stop Xander, and Xander forcing a knife into him, all the way in... including the hilt. No wonder he though he’d died.
“No... you really can’t.” He was out the door, and away from Xander as fast as his legs could take him.
Xander watched him go, helpless to do anything but wish he'd done things different.
The bar had emptied out and Spike was taking the last glasses back to the kitchen. They’d been short handed, and he was the only one left in the front. Hearing the door open, he automatically said, “sorry mate, closed already.”
"Yeah, I was kinda counting on that," Xander replied. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Still he looked steadfastly at Spike.
Spike focused first on Xander’s face, then on his hands. “Shouldn’t you be closing all the windows and making sure no one can see, or do you fuck up every murder.” Pulling his cell phone out from under the bar, he put it on the bar top.
"I wasn't trying to...you don't remember everything, Spike. There was more! And I can't explain without sounding insane." Xander stepped further into the room, keeping his eyes on Spike.
“You put me in a coffin. You gave me this,” he touched his heart, dragging his hand across his black tee shirt where the mysterious scar was... no longer a mystery. “Nothing to explain. Don’t come around me anymore, yeah?”
Again, that ache in his heart. A yearning for something ... security, love. But this boy wasn’t the one to give it to him. Maybe he’d thought he was, but only a git would jump into the fire a second time. Spike had gone through too much.
"I thought I was saving you! I thought..." Xander could feel his hands start to shake. Ever since Spike had 'died' he got the shakes whenever he got too stressed. He clenched his hands and pulled them close to his body. "You wanted to...change, you wanted to be different and I was trying to help you."
“Do you really believe what you’re saying?” Spike could see that he did. Was he a nut case? Maybe he’d gotten involved with him because the guy definitely turned him on. Then what happened? He’d gone strange and it had culminated in a stabbing? “Changed me alright.”
Spike tried to quickly finish up his tasks without turning his back. He hated himself for caring about the boy’s stricken expression. That’s how he’d been tricked before... caring and trusting.
"I'm not lying!" Xander protested. "This isn't fair, you don't know all the facts!" He stalked close to Spike only to have him step away. "I didn't even want you to keep trying, you were the one who insisted on it!"
He crossed his arms, trying to contain the shaking. It'd been two days since he'd found out Spike was still alive. Two days and he was losing him again and there was nothing he could do! Willow had been right, he should have kept his distance until they knew what they were dealing with.
A strange rush swept over him when Xander moved into his space, but he fought the need to pull him into a kiss, opting instead to keep some distance between them. It was bloody stupid of him. “Right... congratulations and thank you for your help. Reading my name on a gravestone was the best thing anyone ever did for me. You’ll need to leave now. I have to get up early for test.”
Walking past him, Spike opened the door. Why did he feel like he was losing yet another part of his life.
"Spike, please...I don't know what to do," Xander begged. "You can't think I'm all bad, you haven't called the police or anything, please give me a chance to explain."
He had no answer for why he hadn’t called the police. It was a question he asked himself all the time. “Maybe not bad, just... touched. I’ve got an exam, I have to do well. Please leave,” he nodded again to the door he held open.
"Yeah... touched is right," Xander muttered. He gave in and left the bar. He'd lost, Spike would never trust him again.
Spike closed the door and locked it, leaning his head against it for a few moments. Xander made him want things... things he’d already destroyed. That just didn’t make any sense, no matter how he looked at it.
He was fucked. The exam hadn’t gone well, or so he thought. What with thoughts of Xander and blood and pain, and those twenty minutes of pure bliss when they’d made love on the sofa before his memory came back, haunting him.
There were more flashes of memory too. He knew where it happened. He found the beachside town... found the beach house. It seemed abandoned, and there were old police tapes across the door.
Spike approached with trepidation. Shouldn’t he be feeling horrified? Instead, there was a good feel to the place. Confused, he walked through the house and found his way to the back porch that faced the beach. He sat on the porch steps and looked out at the ocean.
Scenes assaulted his mind... splashing Xander during a moonlit swim. Swimming under him and tugging his shorts off. Laughing at the chiding... holding it just out of reach. Making him take back all the insults he spewed... forcing him to take them back in return for a just so caress.
Then there was Xander pushing him away from a wooden stake... standing in the way. Why? The mental image was followed with one of him slapping Xander on the back of his head, then kissing him. Then both of them killing someone. No horror, just smiles.
Xander entered the house and dumped his bag on the couch. He'd woken up after a restless nightmare-filled sleep and retreated to the beach house. After the funeral he'd gotten into the habit of coming here to think. This time he'd come to remember the last time he'd seen Spike happy. He ignored the bedroom, with its memories of panic and betrayal and headed for the porch at the back.
Hearing the door creak open, Spike turned and looked up. “Our relationship. It was violent.” Question, answer... he didn’t know which it was.
"Spike? How did you get here?" Xander exclaimed.
“Probably the same way as you.” He took a deep breath. “Did I like to hurt you? Others?”
"Seriously?" The question was so sudden that Xander had no idea what to make of it. In the end he answered honestly, "I think before you got better you... No, you didn't like to hurt me or anyone else. Not unless you had to."
“I see us fighting. All the time. Other people, each other. I see axe’s and blood. And ... then there’s just you and me and we’re kissing. It doesn’t make sense. What kind of people live like that?” He looked up at Xander again, needing answers. He looked like a nice guy... a really nice guy. Why did a nice guy walk around with weapons and stab his lover in the heart?
Xander stepped forward and motioned to the steps, asking if he could sit next to Spike. No reaction so he dared to step even closer and lean against the post next to the steps.
"It's not bad Spike. Those fights, we helped people. We did, we saved lives. And well, I told you we didn't always like each other so yeah, we argued a lot." He shrugged to show that it didn't matter anymore. "We don't live like that now anyway. Or, we didn't before you...before what happened. We pretty much passed the slaying baton to the next generation."
Spike’s scar tingled. He touched it. The words ...cryptic as they were... made sense. They put some of the images he’d been seeing into perspective.
He felt the weight of Xander’s scrutiny, then got up. “Don’t move.” He patted his chest, then ran his hands over his ass, his gaze meeting Xander’s at the exact moment he fought the need to drag him up against him. His heart raced, but he went ahead and moved his hands down each of Xander’s legs, then pulled away and sat down. “You can...” he motioned to the place next to him.
At first Xander was surprised but then, when he realised what Spike was doing, he could only feel sorrow. Of course Spike didn't trust him, he'd stabbed him through the fucking heart, why would he trust him?
"Thanks," he whispered and sat down next to Spike. He remained quiet, afraid that anything he said would scare Spike away again.
“I’m trying. I’m trying to think of one good thing that could have come out of... out of ... he touched his heart again. Remembered his own horror. Then the horror reflected in Xander’s eyes. “I’m fresh out of ideas, mate... not even one comes to mind.”
Xander nodded. Spike was right, of course he was. But how could he explain that Spike had been a vampire?
"You've been remembering things since I got back," he said, a statement more than a question. "There are things I can't explain, you'll think I'm insane," he smiled sadly. "I know you don't trust me, it's fair enough but can you trust me to tell you the truth? Little stories, stuff that might jog your memory."
"I deserve the truth." He took a few breaths, his chest rising and falling. "I can take the truth."
"I won't lie," Xander paused for a moment, trying to pick a memory. "You tried to teach me to throw knives. I say 'tried' because I sucked at it. You tried to bribe me with kisses but no matter how much I tried I couldn't hit the target. Hell I couldn't even make the knife stick into anywhere, they would always clatter on the floor."
Nothing came to Spike, other than the irony. “Maybe I was a better teacher than you thought.”
"Wha- oh...yeah maybe I should have picked a better memory," he smiled an apology. "Erm...when we first met we would always argue. About the stupidest of things, like who had the last donut or who had to read the most boring research book. I used to call you bleach for brains and you'd call me all sorts of British things like git or twerp or, pallock? Pollock? I don't remember that one."
He did remember Xander calling him names, and of course those insults came naturally to him. “Stop being a pillock,” he smirked. “Suits you.”
"Pillock! Yes," Xander grinned, "You never told me what that meant, you know. You'd always laugh at me."
“Not telling you now, either.” Leaning his elbows onto his thighs, Spike looked down at the steps. The feelings that washed over him were familiar. Xander was familiar, and so was the insults they’d tossed. He could imagine kisses between insults, and take-backs in the midst of sex. Now who was being the git? He looked back at Xander. “I believe all that. I know it’s true. I need you to skip to the end,” he looked out over the water. “I need to know if ... if there’s a way back.”
“The end. You wanted something really, really badly. We were trying to figure out a way to do it but the risks were always too great," Xander said softly, "I wouldn't let you."
Spike knew himself. He was pretty driven. If he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t have gotten out of his hell hole existence and made to where he was today. A student, with a roof over his head, and a plan. “Whatever it was, must have been hard trying to talk me out of it.” He looked back at Xander. “Something made you sad. What is it?”
"I wouldn't let you do anything because I was scared you'd get hurt," Xander whispered, "But what I did...it hurt you anyway."
Spike nodded in agreement. That was an understatement but he wasn’t going to quibble about it when he was so close to the heart of things. He could see Xander was struggling with something, trying to get it out... and not doing a good job of it. “I must be hard to kill,” he touched his heart again, wondering how he’d survived. That too was a mystery.
Xander couldn't help a laugh. "Oh you've no idea how true that is. You're like a cockroach, Spike, nothing can kill you."
“Cockroach... right. Tell me, how did you manage to get me with pick-up lines like that?” He couldn’t help grinning back, but he was holding his breath as well. The dance was about to end.
"You're assuming I was the one doing the chasing," Xander pointed out. "The truth is, you pretty much threw me against the wall, told me to stop being a pillock and kissed me."
“Of course it was because you were being one. Xander...” leaning over, he got into the boy’s space. So close to this mouth, so close so recapturing old feelings. “Go on. Tell me the rest of it.”
"You'll think I'm crazy."
“You stabbed me in the heart, and I’m here. I think I’m crazy.”
"You always were a little bit touched in the head," Xander teased.
“That’s my line.” He gripped Xander’s shoulders and shook him lightly. “It’s time.”
"Okay...okay. You were a vmr," Xander mumbled.
“A veemer. What the fuck is that? A disease...” Spike frowned. “Are you trying to confuse me with other languages?”
Xander sighed. He was going to regret this. "Vampire," he said clearly.
“Vam... “ Spike blinked. “Vampire. With the teeth? And the sucking of the blood... I’ve sucked a lot of things but... we were role playing and you stabbed me?” That might make sense... not really.
"What do you mean you sucked a lot of things!"
Spike’s gaze immediately dropped to Xander’s groin. “You don’t know what I mean?” He wanted to banter... it was so easy to forget, too easy. “Were we playing vampire and victim?”
"Hang on, let's go back to the sucking of things," Xander snapped. He knew he shouldn't be jealous of what Spike had been doing during the past two years but still, he couldn't help but get upset at the thought of his Spike fucking other men!
Xander’s outrage, his going off the deep end over a small comment... it was like opening up the floodgates of his memory. Xander pulling him away when he thought he was flirting, even when he was only being his charming self. Xander crying out, trying to hold on to an angry argument but finding it impossible as Spike did things to him. He started to laugh as the memories flowed. Memories of fighting things.... fighting vampires... dusting them. Celebrating. Of getting together. Of telling their friends, and letting Xander hide his face in his neck when they did.
Of wanting to be human so badly, he’d scoured the earth for answers.
Of coming to this beach house for just that reason... word that someone in the area, a Shaman, could help him. The answer had been no, and he’d been so disappointed.
Of having Xander ask him at least three times was he sure he would tempt death to gain humanity. His answer had been the same. He wanted to grow old with Xander. He didn’t want to have to move on when age took its course...
He put his arms around the boy, held him tight as the rest came to him. “I remember... I remember everything.” Swallowing, he looked into his eyes.
"Everything? Even what I did?" Xander felt the shakes coming back, his whole body trembling in reaction. "I'm so sorry Spike, I thought it would be okay, they promised me it would be okay!"
He held him tighter, absorbing the shakes. “They exaggerated, but... it is okay, I’m... I’m human. I am,” he laughed. “And you loved me enough to risk it.”
"You died! Spike, I killed you." Xander hid his face against Spike's chest, taking comfort in the beat of his heart.
This was right... this was what he’d missed for two years without being able to put a name to it. “You brought me alive.” Spike moved his mouth over Xander’s ear. “I missed you. I didn’t know you, and I missed you.”
"You forgive me?"
“I thank you,” he corrected. “And now that I have my memory, I see I was right after all.”
"You always think you're right," Xander spoke against Spike's skin.
“I am. You did have it for me from the beginning. Do that again,” he growled, pulling his shirt down to allow more access.
"Didn't, you were evil and Angel tried to feed me to you at the beginning," Xander replied, smiling at the familiarity of the argument.
“And now you voluntarily ask me to eat you, come a long way haven’t you?” He wanted Xander’s mouth on him again, dammit. Moving away a bit, he pulled his tee off and tossed it down before pulling the boy close again. Pressing Xander’s face against his chest, he shivered.
“Hey, the eating is mutual," Xander protested. He pressed a kiss on Spike's chest and pulled back to look into his eyes. "You don't hate me?"
“No luv, but I will if you don’t stop talking and start kissing.” He gave Xander a moment, then covered his mouth in a heated kiss. He wanted it back... all of it. His past, his partner, their life together. And he wanted it to start right now. “Promised me porch sex. And sunlight. We have both,” he muttered thickly, working Xander’s shirt up and caressing his abs.
"You're taking this too well," Xander murmured, his concentration shared between the weirdness of the moment and the feelings Spike's touch evoked. "I'm taking this too well. You were dead for two years then you couldn't remember me and now you, oh that feels nice."
“Just nice?” A predatory gleam entered Spike’s eyes as he pushed Xander back, forcing him to plant his feet spread apart on the bottom stair. He’d already made short work of the shirt, and now he had the best view of his lover... with the top button of his jeans undone. Leaning down, he kissed Xander right at the opening of the button and formed circles with his tongue.
Xander arched his back, pushing forward against Spike's mouth. He tried to remember the conversation they'd been having. "Too fast," he gasped, "This is going too fast."
“Hmm... not the message I’m getting on this end,” he drawled, freeing Xander’s straining cock and skimming his mouth across its shaft. “It’s like this, see. You want me, I want you... and no such thing as too fast.” He licked figure eights over the side and head of the boy’s cock, loving the way Xander’s hips moved up in a silent demand for more.
"OH shit...Spike, that end hasn't seen any in two years!"
“Two years... waiting for me?” He was humbled... and touched, and couldn’t be smug if he tried. “I’ll have to make it worth the wait then.” And he did, pulling out no stops. He gripped Xander’s thighs, his fingers digging into him through the jeans that were pulled half way down. Forcing him not to move, he used his mouth, and tongue, and voice... his face... moving in ways calculated to arouse and drive the boy slowly to the edge.
"Oh God," Xander gasped as spike launched an all-out assault on his senses. He tried to think but the only thing he could concentrate on was the pleasure Spike milked from him with every swipe of his tongue and the tightness of the jeans around his knees as he tried to spread them as much as possible.
Moving his head to the side, Spike pushed lower and took Xander’s sack in his mouth, rolling his tongue across its surface. He’d wanted to know about sucking... he got his wish. But each time Xander’s thighs flexed... each time his hips moved, Spike was just this much closer to forgetting to play and satisfying his own growing need.
Xander was lost in pleasure, his eyes closed and his hands buried in Spike's hair. "More, please," he begged.
“More ... yes... “ he put his hand around the base of Xander’s cock and used his thumb to tease the spot above his sack, as he took the rest of him in his mouth and sucked mercilessly. Up and down, he moved, with one hand forcing Xander to stay still and not come up off the stairs.
The sounds the boy was making had him so hard and heavy, so ready... wanted to rip his own clothes off. He lifted his head. “Really need to fuck.”
"You...God I want to fuck you Spike," Xander tried to get up, hampered by his jeans and Spike's grip. It'd been so long and he needed this, needed to feel Spike trusted him again. "Please," he moaned as Spike pushed him down once more.
“Yes... but let’s get this off,” he answered roughly, pulling Xander’s jean’s off. He unzipped and pushed his own down, but before he could get them off completely, he was back down on his knees, thrusting his cock against Xander’s. “Your back...” he asked, knowing he should move them onto the flat floor of the porch, but unable to fight it... unable to stop himself from slamming into his lover, claiming back all the time they’d lost.
"Fuck my back," Xander growled, "Don't stop."
It was an impossible position, one knee between Xander's thighs, the other on the upper stair, above Xander's hip, with his jeans making it difficult for him to shift positions... but all Spike could think about was the waves of pleasure that rocked him every damn time he thrust his hips forward. His muscles strained as he tried to get closer, fuck harder, find relief from the pressure building ... sharpening into an almost unbearable ache.
Almost mad with need, Spike was close to taking him. But something reeled him in. Allowed him to dig shakely into his jeans and retrieve a small tube of ointment. The next time Xander raise his hips, Spike prepared his entrance, fucking against Xander’s knee as he did so. Finally, he shifted his cock against the boy’s entrance... so hot, so heavy, so bloody ready.
"Need you... need you so much, Xan," lurching forward, Spike pushed inside as he locked his mouth over Xander's, gripping his shoulder with one hand and the upper stair with the other. Tight, his lover was so tight, squeezing him, clenching around him, thrusting harder and harder. New waves of uncontrollable lust slammed through Spike. As his movements grew more violent... more desperate, his kisses grew rougher too. With just the pressure of his mouth, he had Xander leaning all the way back, his head against the foor boards... trapped... making it possible for him to move away. Fuck.. had it always been like this? Had it?
Xander could hardly move, all he could do was lie there and let Spike fuck him. He was vaguely aware of the pain in his lower back where it was pushed against the edge of the step but he didn't care. He needed this too much to let some trivial pain get in his way.
"Please, Spike. So close, need more," he moaned, dragging Spike down for another kiss.
Spike moved his mouth over Xander's throat, then back to his mouth, almost immediately invading it with his tongue. He was pushing down, Xander was pushing up... it was good, so fucking good. Every cell in his body recognized this... recognized Xander, every cell reacted to him... screamed for him... needed him. "Tell me you need me. Tell me you need only me," he panted as his need reached a fevered pitch.
"Fuck, yeah," Xander moaned. He trailed his hands down Spike's back, cupping his arse and pulling him deeper inside. "Anything you want Spike, just don't stop."
"Not planning to mate," was the gruff answer he got as Spike arched in response and tried to get even deeper inside Xander. It was impossible. "Fucking hell," he shouted, suddenly shoving both hands under Xander, lifting him up with adrenalin generated superhuman strength, and climbing up the stairs on his knees, still thrusting and fucking. Once they were on the flat part of the porch, he ungracefully dropped Xander, shoved and kicked off his jeans, then gathered the boy to him. He tried to hang on to a smile as he drove inside, burying his shaft to the hilt. Pulling out, groaning at his body's protests, he slammed forward again, this time finding Xander's gland and pulsing against it, hitting it from slightly different angles. "Come... come for me..."
He didn’t have to say it again. They both shouted their release, neither one caring who might be within hearing distance. All they knew was they’d found each other again and that this was the first of many ways in which they’d celebrate their intense love for each other.
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