Lazy curls of smoke floated up from the cigarette in his hand. He was waiting. He wasn't sure what for. He was dead and dusted as far as they were all concerned, even if they knew he wasn't there was no reason to expect they wanted to see him, especially him. But Spike cared. Cared too much if his history was anything to go by. He wanted to see the boy. He held no misconceptions about his reception; he knew Xander would be less than pleased to see him. Still, he needed to see for himself, to know that the Whelp was alright. It wasn't that he doubted what Angel had told him, exactly; more some puerile need to prove it to himself and not simply take King Broody's word- Angel could and would lie to him if he thought it necessary.
Spike looked down at the burning ember of his smoke and heaved a heavy sigh. What was he doing? He tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it out under the toe of his Docs. He rolled his head and shoulders causing his neck to pop, before turning calmly with his back to the wall of the brownstone he was hiding next to. "Hello, pet, don't you know to stake first?"
The bright eyes of a young girl, obviously one of the Slayers they had called into being, studied Spike. "Xan says we should always be careful, that you never know when one of you is more useful for information than dusted."
Spike smiled at that. "Xander is a smart man, but don't tell him I said that." He added a smirking wink for good measure.
The girl faltered. "You know Xander? You're not Angel, though. He told us about him."
"He did, now, did he?"
The girl continued to study Spike, not at all sure what to make of him.
The blond vamp chuckled as he heard someone approaching, the scent unmistakably Xander.
"It's okay, Cin," the young man told the girl as he appeared out of the shadows.
"Xan?" she asked in confusion.
Xander simply smiled, brighter than he had in months, since before Sunnyhell imploded. He ignored his charge in favour of the blond not-so-dusted vampire. "Spike."
"Whelp," the vampire returned with matching nonchalance.
Xander walked right up to the vampire, their chests almost touching. A soft, "You're real," almost silently whispered fell from his lips as one hand crawled up between them, lightly tracing the vamp's muscled torso until he came to this collarbone. He let his fingers trace up the bone to the back of Spike's neck, Xander's thumb running smoothly into and out of the cleft at his throat. Without warning he pushed Spike hard into the wall, his larger form covering the vampire's smaller one completely. "You bastard," Xander snarled into Spike's ear. "You died," he said, letting the heat from his words, as well as his body, melt into the vampire's cool skin as cheek hovered precariously against cheek.
"Xander," he sighed the man's name like a prayer he never expected to be answered. He'd only wanted to see him, to know he was okay, that they were taking care of him. He'd never meant this. Wanted, yes, but meant for it to happen... it wasn't the kind of thing that happened to the Evil Undead, or even the re-ensouled, self-sacrificing Not-So-Evil Undead.
Despite the harsh words, Xander stayed pressed close to the vampire, not ready to let him go or go back to Buffy or wherever it was he'd gotten to since the 'Dale disappeared. He'd wanted the vampire for too long to let him waltz right back out of his life with a 'Whelp' and a handshake.
Cautiously, Spike raised his arms, snaking them gently under Xander's coat to hold him and pull him that last bit closer.
Xander let his chocolate eyes drift closed as he pressed the side of his head against Spike's; a small choked sound burbling unbidden from his throat.
"Didn't think you'd want t' see me, pet," Spike confessed into Xander's hair.
"That why you've been out here for the last two nights?" he asked not moving from the embrace they shared.
Spike chuckled. "You or the Slayerette?" he asked simply.
"Bit of both," he said quietly. He rolled his head, until he could nuzzle lightly at the vampire's neck. He exhaled deeply and whispered, "Missed you."
Spike didn't know what was happening, he felt like he was in a dream or the wrong universe- given his experience the latter was as likely as anything. Xander missed him, his Xander missed him. He felt a true smile tug at his lips, it had been entirely too long since that had happened, and bore his neck to Xander, silently begging for more.
Xander smiled against the trustingly born column of pale skin. "Come inside."
There was a small eeping noise and the sound of wood clattering to the ground, followed by a very confused, "But Xander!?!?!?"
"Don't worry, Cin. I know what I'm doing."
She nodded, a little hesitantly, picked up the dropped stake, and scurried across the road to the brownstone they shared.
"Do you?" Spike asked quietly.
"Do I ever?" Xander quipped back. "But this time, Bloodbreath," he said, breathing warm, moist air over the vampire's exposed skin, "I think I just might."
"Harris..." He was going to chastise the mortal for playing taunt-the-vampire, but Spike's words died on his lips as he took in the heat in those rich, now, almost black eyes.
Xander just gave him one of his lopsided twinkling grins, before grabbing his leather clad arm and virtually dragging the unresisting vampire to their front door. He stopped, standing on the inside of the threshold, looking into blue eyes like the purest crystal. "Come in, Spike."
The words were barely out of his mouth before the vampire surged and had him up against the wall, an apropos mirror to their positions in the alleyway. This time it was Spike, who dipped his head against Xander's neck, letting his warm chocolate-cinnamon scent wash over him, a smooth rumbling sound, nothing less than a purr emanating from his chest.
"We should probably talk," Xander said, not sounding the least bit interested in talking, as he wrapped his arms around the purring vampire.
"Mmm," Spike agreed, making no move to extricate himself.
"We really... we should talk... we really should talk about this," his voice was breathy and shallow.
Spike gently rubbed against Xander's cheek, rolling their foreheads together as their noses toyed with each other in feigned Eskimo kisses. Quietly and carefully, he moved in to claim Xander's lips in a deep, gentle kiss.
Xander's hand slipped up to tangle in Spike's peroxide locks enjoying their silky feel between his fingers. Then Spike was pulling away, not letting him go, but stepping back. Xander used his hold in Spike's hair to keep him from going too far.
The vampire just smirked. "I thought you wanted to talk, pet?" he asked, the picture of debauched innocence.
"Yeah..." Xander breathed heavily. "Change of plans. Kissing first, talk later."
"Good plan" Spike smiled as he let the mortal draw him in for another kiss.