Who Wants to Live Forever


by
Metaforgirl



Part Fourteen

Xander was having a staring contest with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. The bottle sat in the middle of the table and Xander felt that, while neither party had conceded defeat at this point, he had the definite advantage. He could see a small bead of moisture sliding down one side of the bottle. Yeah, he was making ol’ Johnny sweat.

The desire to break down, grab the bottle and just tip it back was so strong, Xander felt that the back of his throat was sticking to itself from thirst. He was barely attending to Willow and Giles’ conversation. His emotions were skating so wildly around inside him that he could not grab hold of one and just deal with it.

The primary sensation was shock. Xander was, sadly, accustomed to being in shock. And compared to his history of earth shaking occurrences, like when the beautiful girl whom you are about to kiss suddenly turns into a malevolent stinking corpse. Or like when the best friend of your entire childhood falls forward onto the stick in your hand and explodes into dust. Compared to those shocks, waking up to find that the person you had bared your soul to the night before was now a fugitive from justice, just barely registered on the Alexander Harris Richter scale.

Under the shock boiled the anger. Xander Harris was also familiar with, and relatively experienced in, anger. First, there was the comfortable and seemly rage at the faceless authoritarian Council who had demanded this action towards Spike. Xander could bite into that anger quite easily, no aftertaste there, except then there was the attached frustrated anger with Giles and Willow, for apparently letting it happen. Next was the uncomfortable anger he felt with Spike. For letting himself get in this mess, for being someone who would get in this mess. And finally, uncomfortably, there was the underlying anger at himself because he knew, somehow, this was also his fault.

But beneath this was the thing that kept Xander longing for the amber liquid in the bottle before him. Beneath this was the abandoned puppy, whimpering in the basement because he had been forgotten, tossed aside and forgotten, once more. Alone, afraid and wondering what he had done wrong. Xander stared into the eye of Johnnie Walker and quite suddenly cried ‘uncle’.

He was reaching for the triumphant whiskey when there was a thump of feet on the porch. Xander jumped up, nervy and excited, then crashed back to his seat in disappointment when one of Willow’s novices showed at the door.

“Mistress?” squeaked the newbie, shyly. Willow turned and frowned.

“Why are you here, Ani,” she asked, puzzled. “I’ve told you not to go out this late without a chaperone. You should have called.”

Ani ducked her head. “He.. he wanted me to tell you…” she looked behind her nervously. Xander jumped to his feet again and walked quickly to the sink. Leaning against the counter there, staring at a window that would never reflect vampires.

“Never mind, chit,” said Spike’s voice kindly, “I’ll give the message.” Xander did not turn around. He imagined he felt Spike’s eyes scanning his back.

“Spike,” said Willow happily, unsuccessfully masking her satisfaction at being right. “Giles!” she called merrily. Giles stormed into the room and stood, with that look of outrage mixed with relief that one would usually find on the face of the parent of a teenager. “Spike, I hope you can explain your unwarranted…”

Spike broke his contemplation of Xander’s pointedly turned back to face Giles. Cold anger washed over his face. “Look, Watcher,” Spike jabbed an angry index finger at him, “we are no longer conversing. And if you touch me,” he hissed when Giles took another step towards him, “I’ll break your fucking fingers. Soul or no soul.”

Giles stood back, stunned. Willow walked over and took his arm. “Spike. No-one’s touching you. No-one’s doing anything just yet.” She nodded at him pleasantly, cast a curious look at Xander, and brought her gaze back to Spike. “You should rest. Feed. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She drew Giles gently back into the living room with her, leaving Spike with Xander in the kitchen.

Spike rubbed the back of his neck, feeling suddenly awkward and unable to look directly at the man who had drawn him back to this hellhole.

“Sorry, Xan,” he mumbled awkwardly.

Xander contemplated his reflection standing alone in the darkened window. “For what?”

Spike shrugged, made a vague gesture that encompassed all sins past and present, then turned to the refrigerator. “Hungry,” he said.

Xander watched him from the corner of his eye, noting his feet, the condition of his battered hand, something … tree bark? In his hair. “Where did you go?”

Spike didn’t answer, grimly drawing three blood-bags from the fridge, emptying them into a mug and shoving it in the microwave. He didn’t look at Xander but stood a few feet away, leaning also on the counter. Xander glanced sideways again and noted how close Spike’s hand was to his. Mere inches separated them.

“Why did you come back?”

Spike leaned forward against the counter. Because I couldn’t leave you. Because I can’t exist without you, he thought. “Wanted my boots,” he said out loud. There was a long silence.

Xander snorted. Spike turned, surprised, and Xander snorted again. The snort became a guffaw. Xander leaned back against the counter and allowed himself the laughter. He looked up at Spike’s indignant expression.

“Geez, Spike, you are a nimrod.”

Spike glowered. “Fuck off,” he said.

Xander swept his hand in a gesture to describe Spike’s entire appearance. “And look at you, guy. What, a few hours and you’re the noble savage?” He pushed a hand suggestively into his own hair. Spike reached up, found the debris in his and began picking it out methodically.

“You’ve got no respect, Harris,” he grumbled. “Vampire in crisis, here.”

“Oh and ‘Hello Mr. Melodrama’.” Xander was still laughing. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“It pleases me no end that you find this all so bloody amusin’, Harris,” Spike said waspishly.

“It’s not amusing, Spike. It’s tragic,” Xander said hotly. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

“Startin’ to wish I hadn’t.”

Xander thought for a moment of sitting at that table, arm wrestling his demons. Unconsciously waiting for his own special demon to return. Waiting and Spike never showing. He cleared his throat against the lump there. “Glad you did, though,” he said softly.

Spike glanced at him once with bright eyes and nodded.

Xander sat down at the table and attempted to regain his composure. “So what are you gonna do now?”

“Don’t know.”

Xander pondered all the possibilities inherent in that statement. “You stayin’?”

Spike looked away without answering.

“Spike.” Xander rubbed the grain of the table under his thumb thoughtfully. “I probably shouldn’t say anything, ‘cuz not really good at the life decisions here, but if I were you…”

“Which you ain’t.”

“Yeah, but still. If I were you…”

“Alive for over a century. Or rather undead for over a century. Killed more humans than I can count. Ate them.” Spike was ticking points off on his fingers. Xander gazed at him for a moment. At the slender young man with the perfect skin and clear blue eyes perched on the edge of the table, enumerating his transgressions. “Betrayed my family a few times. Betrayed my enemies a few times more, but ya know, those things are expected. And, oh pet, the things I did with Dru that I can not as a gentleman mention!”

“You’re right, Spike,” said Xander dryly, “I can not possibly imagine what it’s like to be you.”

“That’s right.”

“The blood lust. The hunger. All that eternal longing.”

Spike looked at him with hooded eyes. “Yeah.”

“The power.” Xander leaned forward in his chair. “The power to take, to kill. To do whatever you want.”

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “But the soul…”

“Yeah, the soul won’t let you do it. But you know you could.”

“You know you could do whatever you want, you know you could do whomever you want. So much strength.” Xander took in a deep breath. His eyes held Spike’s. “So much strength they can’t resist you. They don’t want to resist you.” He shifted his chair back from the table, and spread his legs, openly displaying his swollen crotch. “Naw, I can’t imagine it,” he growled. “Why don’t you explain it to me.”

An overwhelming wave of pheromones hit Spike.

“Xander…” he said cautiously.

“Because I’m having a lot of trouble understanding, Spike. I’ve known vampires for years. Hunted them, hated them, fucked them and I still don’t understand what it must be like. What is it? Want, take, have? What is that like? To be the one that takes? To have that power?” Xander dropped his hand casually into his lap, gently cupped his bulging erection, shifted in his seat and took a deep breath. “What’s it like to be the one who has that choice?” Spike gripped the edge of the table; he couldn’t stop watching the movements of Xander’s hand.

“Explain it to me, Spike. What’s it like to enter a bar and know you can have anyone there. You just need to choose. And wait. Watching them, knowing you’re going to have them. Knowing there’s nothing that will stop you.” Xander’s thumb lazily rubbed at his crotch, his breathing was audible. Spike swallowed.

“What’s it like to hold a victim down?” purred Xander to the transfixed vampire. “Does he know what you’re going to do to him? Do you tell him first? Do you show him those teeth?” he asked, his eyes speculatively traveling over Spike’s mouth with such open lust Spike thought he could feel the touch. “Do you touch those teeth to him first? Not biting, just letting him know. How sharp they are. How sensitive. Are they sensitive, Spike? When you touch your teeth to him, does it turn you on? Does it make you hard, Spike?” Xander asked, shifting his hips a bit in the chair. “God, tell me, Spike, tell me. The power, the fear, the blood pounding in the helpless throat, does it make you hard?”

Spike growled, “Xander.” He slid gracefully off the table and leaned over the other man. He bent his head to Xander’s neck, irresistibly intoxicated by the smell coming off him. He ran his nose and mouth up and down the neck as Xander arched his head back to give him access.

“Show me, Spike,” Xander whispered. “Show me what it’s like.”

Spike heaved Xander up from the chair and into his arms with a brute strength that made Xander gasp. He buried his face into Xander’s neck, rubbing back and forth, making a light keening noise. He could feel his demon pushing forward, drawn by the smell of the blood, the intense arousal, the invitation of the strong, arched neck. Xander moaned and clawed at his back.

“Yeah, Spike, yeah.”

Somewhere, in another part of the house, Willow’s laughter sounded. In the refrigerator, the icemaker crashed ice into the bin.

“Shit!” Spike jumped back violently and let go of Xander so suddenly, the other man almost fell. As Xander regained his balance, Spike backed into the counter. He felt himself panting and struggled to control it. “What the bloody fuck are you tryin’ ta do, Xander?”

Xander stood shakily rubbing his hand across his mouth. His lust dilated eyes focused confusedly on the floor before him. “I dunno.” He grabbed the chair again and sat heavily down.

“I almost fucking bit you, Xan!”

“Yeah.” Xander sat listening to Spike trying not to breathe. “Could you?” he asked without looking at the vampire.

“FUCK no!”

“Oh.”

Spike stared. “What, did you WANT me to?”

Xander continued silently studying the tabletop.

“Bloody Hell, Xan, this is dangerous shit you’re playin’ with here! What do you think, this is some kind of fuck toy?” Spike viciously shook himself and with a muted roar, donned his demonic visage. Yellow eyes glared balefully at Xander’s down-turned head. “Look at me, Xander,” he hissed.

Xander looked. His eyes widened again with lust. “Geez, Spike.”

“NO!” roared the demon. Spike shook himself hard, and his infuriated human face continued to stare down at Xander. “This isn’t some kinda bondage game here, Harris! There’s no ‘safe word’ when you’re gettin’ your life sucked out by a vampire!”

Xander tried to quell the disappointment in his voice. “Then you can’t control it.”

“No.”

Xander looked up. A funny twinkle entered his eye. Spike saw that and stood straight, holding one hand up as if to ward off evil. “Nuh uh, Harris. I do not want to know what you’re thinkin’”

“Have you ever tried to control it?” Xander asked sweetly.

“Shit. Did you not hear me askin’ you not to tell me?”

“Have you?” Xander insisted.

Spike looked away, considering what to tell him. Actually, there was so much blood play between vampires, especially insane, torture loving vampires like his dear Drusilla, that biting without draining was pretty usual. What worried Spike was why Xander would be interested in this subject at all. He cast back in his mind to the conversation that had led to all this.

“You were givin’ me some advice, weren’t you, Harris?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah?” Xander cocked his head. Eyes still twinkling.

“What was it?”

“Just thought, if I were you. Yeah,” he wiggled his eyebrow and grinned, “if I were you, Spike, I wouldn’t let anyone make me into something I wasn’t.”

“You wouldn’t.” Spike looked down at his own feet. “Well, what I am just about drained you a minute ago.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Not this time.”

“Not any time, Spike,” Xander said seriously. “’S one thing I know about you. Always have. One of the big differences between Xander and Spike,” he indicated the two of them with his hand. Pointed at Spike. “Demon,” pointed at himself, “human.” “Wanker,” indicating Spike, “asshole,” indicating himself. Xander laughed. Pointed at Spike again, “Self-control,” pointed at himself, “no self-control.” Xander had to look away for a minute. He folded his hands on the table and continued in a subdued voice, “That’s one thing I always knew, Spike, always trusted. I couldn’t tell you because… well, because I’m a dickhead.”

“Xander…”

“Nope. I counted on it Spike. Counted on you never letting me go too far. I knew you wouldn’t do it. You won’t.” Xander made himself look back at Spike.

“You will never really hurt me, Spike. You will always be able to stop.”

Spike was silent, thinking. He raised a broken thumbnail to his mouth and nibbled. Xander observed this old habit, and wondered if he had made any sense at all. Spike turned back to his now cold mug of blood, dumped it and rinsed out the cup in silence. He liberated more bags of blood from the refrigerator, heated them and drank them down slowly. The entire time still immersed in some internal argument. Xander watched him curiously. When Spike finally finished his feed, and looked towards him, Xander felt the vampire had come to some decision. “So?” he asked.

“So. Harris. Ya want to know the ways of vampira?” Spike purred, lifting a suggestive eyebrow. He stalked Xander silkily. Then bypassed him and headed for the kitchen door.

“Hey!” Xander jumped up from his chair and followed him.


~*~*~*~*~


Giles and Willow were startled by the thudding feet and muffled laughter on the stairs. Willow looked thoughtfully off towards the source of the sound.

“Huh,” she said.

“Is there something wrong, Willow?” Giles asked absently, turning back to a large volume of vellum and leather.

“No, Giles. I think sometimes I forget that the Goddess is alive.”

“And Magic is afoot,” responded Giles automatically. He looked up. “Magic? Willow, I am an old man. A very, very, very old man. Please do not try me any more tonight.”

Willow laughed. “Don’t worry, Kronos. I’m thinking more natural magic.”


~*~*~*~*~


Because they stalk and kill their prey, vampires are frequently compared to the more dangerous predators of the live animal population. Lions, tigers, even sharks with their response to the smell of blood. This comparison forgets, however, that a vampire is a demon. Carnivores eat to live. They consume energy to have energy; to reproduce and to hunt and consume more energy. Hunting is necessary to feed, but a smart carnivore will never expend more energy than is needed to acquire food. A quick easy kill, and then a nap. That is their goal.

Vampires, on the other hand, while needing the blood of victims to maintain themselves, are demons. And the demon has other needs. The demon needs to do more than take life; the demon needs to play with the mind, play with the heart and the soul, of the victim. The demon has a very real physiological need to smell fear, feel power, destroy hope.

Spike was unusual amongst vampires, but not entirely unique. His demon had always needed validation, always needed to feel the response of living things. This had made him particularly flamboyant and imaginative in the best and worst ways. He was a terrifying and incredibly cruel predator. He was an entertaining and dazzling fighter. But the demon’s need for interaction and to be seen, bleeding together with his hosts similar needs, had made Spike particularly vulnerable to other effects of human beings. The predator’s empathy, which led him with unerring accuracy to the weakest place in his victim’s mind, also made him susceptible to sympathy, and finally affection. The soul became a rudder to the demon’s choices.

But Spike still had the instincts and responses of a demon. And now a luscious mortal had come knocking at the proverbial door asking the demon out to play. It was like stretching unused limbs after a long captivity.

Xander was peeling off his shirt as he came through the bedroom door. As it popped over his head, he paused. He had been right behind Spike, yet in the shifting gloom he felt completely alone. He dropped his shirt to the floor. Old Scooby senses stirred as the hair on his arms rose. “Spike?”

There was absolutely no answer. Nothing moved in the shadows. Xander nervously giggled. “Spiiike,” he called in a whisper. “Ahlee Ahlee Ocean Free…” There was a bump and a rustle near the dresser. Xander jumped and spun instinctively towards the sound. He had gone into an automatic combat readiness posture. On the balls of his feet, both arms loosely out and ready. Unconsciously listening with the surface of his skin. Like cat’s whiskers, every nerve feeling the air. He took a step towards the source of the sound.

There was a bump in the corner directly behind him and Xander spun around again. He began breathing rapidly. A rustle near the bed. He didn’t move but shifted his weight a bit. He was starting to feel disoriented, and suddenly wished he had switched on the lights as he came into the room. “Hey. Spike,” he whispered, trying to put some levity in his voice, to mask the nervousness. “How about switching on a candle or somethin’?”

“Silence.” Just as the word registered in his brain, Xander felt two hard arms, one across his shoulder pinning him, the other encircling his waist, pull him firmly up against a body. He gasped and struggled instinctively, but couldn’t move. A ridged, bumpy head rubbed seductively against the back of his neck and cool lips touched his ear. He began to pant with fear, wishing he could pull away, turn to look.

“Spike?”

“Silence.” The command was a growl now, and was accompanied by a slightly uncomfortable squeeze. Xander froze. The mouth was on his ear again and Xander felt a cold tongue gently playing with the lobe. There was the slightest prick, and if he could have moved he would have jumped. “Would you like to be pierced?” purred his captor seductively.

“N..n..no?” whispered Xander.

“No, ssssir,” hissed the vampire.

“No. Sir,” gulped Xander. The arm at his waist moved and Xander could glance down just enough to see ridged, bumpy hands and razor sharp talons. The claw descended to his fly and began delicately to tear open the material. “Wh..wh..oa. Uh. Spike.”

“SILENCE!” The growl was followed by four distinct pricks of bright pain on his neck. The clawed hand continued its task. The sharp points were withdrawn and an ugly deep voice enunciated carefully. “You. Do not. Speak.” Xander felt his pants fall to his ankles. He started shaking, but he remained mute.

The cool mouth continued playing, moving from the ear to his neck and back, trailing a hard cold tongue. Fearful of moving his head, Xander cast his eyes down and could see the sharp talons delicately stroking his pubic hair. His already hard cock, which had wilted momentarily with the shock, began to twitch again. One finger of the claw elegantly hooked itself around the base of his cock, the sharp nail a breath away from his sensitive skin. Xander moaned as his dick became suddenly quite hard. It leapt in Spike’s hand, and the vampire grabbed it quickly and firmly.

“Mine,” he hissed into Xander’s ear. He began to leisurely pump the stiff shaft. Xander was now aware of an equally hard presence against his backside. As Spike pumped Xander’s cock, he thrust the human’s hips forward with his own. Making him fuck the vampire’s fist. “Yeah,” purred the demon, “you wanna be mine, don’t you boy?”

The demon purred at Xander’s beautifully obedient silence. “Oh, nice,” he said, his fist increasing its speed and pressure. “You may speak,” he said.

Xander could not stop watching the knife-like talons skimming the air around his hardened flesh. He was hypnotized by the fear of their cutting him and the erotic thrill of Spike controlling his movements. “Yesss,” he groaned quietly. The four bright points of pain reappeared on his neck. “Yes, sir,” amended Xander, helplessly.

The being behind him shuddered all over. Xander felt the claw still, and almost cried out with frustration. The talons morphed suddenly back to fingers and Spike’s voice said gruffly into his neck, “You okay, Xander? Is this okay?”

“Geez, Spike,” breathed Xander fervently, “if you stop now I will fucking stake you.”

The vampire chuckled and then with a cat-like roar, the talons reappeared and the hard dick shoved itself harshly into Xander’s buttocks. “Yeah,” grunted the demon happily. He stepped back a bit and loosened his arms. “Turn around,” he commanded. “And kneel,” he added pleasantly.

Xander barely had command of his own feet, but he managed the task. He felt a nail graze his scalp lightly as a claw buried itself in his hair and pulled his face to gaze up at Spike. He gasped at the sight of Spike’s game face. Golden unblinking eyes staring at him with naked hunger, small pink tongue licking lips and fangs with anticipation. “Open your mouth,” whispered Spike. Xander obeyed. “Wiiiider,” said Spike, smirking. Xander struggled to swallow and obeyed. He held the demon’s eyes, so only heard the buttons release and the creak of stiff denim. “Stick out your tongue.”

And Xander knelt there as if he were waiting to take the Host. His mind reeled with the blasphemy. The hand in his hair gripped him firmly and the eyes demanded that he not look away. Then he felt Spike’s cock, heavy, cold and thick placed on his tongue. It was moved back and forth a bit. It was pushed in and out a bit. The sensors in his tongue picked up salt and bitter pre-cum. He shuddered involuntarily. One of his hands jerked towards his cock. “DON’T TOUCH YOURSELF,” roared Spike angrily. Xander froze. He gazed up at his captor beseechingly.

The demon gazed down on him with his head tilted sideways, a look of benevolent amusement on its features. He began stroking his own dick with hard firm strokes, while rubbing it back and forth on Xander’s tongue. “Good boy. Good boy,” he said to the rhythm of his strokes. A fierce look came over his face, and Xander heard the slap of hand on flesh suddenly increase in frequency. “Yeah,” said Spike, and he removed his cock from Xander’s mouth and placed the head of it firmly on Xander’s face, next to his nose. Xander felt the blunt thickness shoving lightly at his cheek, as Spike continued to jerk himself off. Suddenly the vampire stiffened and stilled. “Mine!” he barked, and Xander felt surprisingly warm liquid spill across his face, running into his open mouth and catching in his eyelashes. He shut his eyes instinctively to protect them as he felt the liquid continue to pump against his cheek. “LOOK AT ME,” roared the demon. And Xander startled and opened his eyes. The red, relaxed head of Spike’s cock waved before him. “Clean me off,” whispered the demon sweetly.

Xander felt bliss as he leaned forward to swipe at Spike’s shaft with his tongue. He sucked it into his mouth, and felt it beginning to harden again. Gently it was withdrawn, his hair was released. He looked up again into Spike’s human and stunned face. “Xander…” he said unsteadily. He fell to his knees in front of Xander. Reached up to touch the cum on his face. His cock twitched and bobbed in front of him. “Xander, what the…?”

“Don’t stop, Spike,” Xander commanded seriously, as his hand came down to grab his own dick. He breathed unsteadily and pulled on himself slowly. “Don’t stop, Spike,” he begged, “make me come.” Spike stared at him for a minute then shook himself violently back into his demon visage. He stood, and as Xander continued to pull on himself with increasing urgency, he stripped. The naked, hard demon stood before him contemplatively, then walked around behind him. As Xander turned his head to follow him, he barked, “Eyes forward, boy.” A thrill ran through Xander and he jerked on his cock.

Xander heard the demon prowling around him. A low snarl reverberated through the room and Xander moaned, “Touch me, Spike. God, please.” Suddenly that cold marble body was pressed up against him. Spike wrapped his arm loosely around Xander’s chest and snaked a clawed hand around the root of Xander’s cock. He squeezed gently while pulling Xander back and rhythmically pressing himself against Xander’s entrance. Slowly, he slid his dick under Xander’s balls, so it thrust between his legs. He thrust gently back and forth; Xander felt the cool length caressing his balls and began pushing his head back against Spike’s. He whispered desperately, “Do it now. I wanna feel you.” He groaned, “God I want to feel you.” The ridged face was back at Xander’s neck, the tongue licking at the pulse point repeatedly. Xander could not help the moans and grunts now emanating from his mouth. He frantically jerked at his cock. Spike hissed in his ear, flicking his tongue over the lobe. The blunt thickness slid rhythmically between his legs, teasingly, and the tongue slid down to Xander’s neck and was replaced once more by four sharp needles. The demon growled into his neck, “Come for me, pet,” and as the words of Xander’s most erotic and secret fantasy spilled into his ears, he felt the sharp points flame into searing pain. Xander could not cry out. An agony of fire burned at his neck. His hand stopped its desperate movement as he arched against Spike’s mouth. Then the pain changed. An ecstasy of sensation flowed from his neck straight to his groin, where he felt Spike firmly jerking him off. Xander arched, white fire filled his mind and he felt an orgasm traveling from his neck to his cock as it jerked and spurted into the air. He felt his sperm traveling out of his penis, and his blood sliding out of his neck, then the pulling on both gradually changed, subsiding to a tingling ache. Xander leant back against Spike, who was moaning and growling into his neck. He felt the soft lips pulling gently at his skin, felt the tongue lapping and felt Spike inside his neck. It was almost like having Spike’s cock inside him, and Xander swooned a little with the sensation. Spike supported him carefully, then slipped his fangs out. He shivered as they were removed and leant back into Spike’s arms. He was vaguely aware of wetness dripping from his ass and realized that Spike had come against him while feeding.

“Oh. My. God,” whispered Xander in awe. “Fucking amazing.”

“Yeah.” Spike bowed his head to Xander’s shoulder. Kissed it with little worshipful kisses. “Love you, Xander.”

“You controlled it, Spike,” said Xander softly. “You made yourself stop.”

Spike chuckled happily. “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “Didn’t want to eat you. Just wanted to taste you.”

“Yeah,” said Xander in wonder. “Spike.” Athought dawned in his still spinning brain. “Spike, you claimed me.”

“Yeah?” Spike whispered against the warm flesh. “You a silver mine or something, Xan?” He rubbed his hands up and down Xander’s torso lovingly. “Precious metal,” he said happily.

“No, seriously,” Xander said excitedly. He pulled away and turned to face Spike, “I read it in one of Giles’ books. That’s what vampires do. They claim their ‘partners’. They bite them. They share blood. And other bodily fluids,” he said, laughing and rubbing at his flaky cheek.

Spike regarded him with a look of absolute astonishment. “Xander,” he smiled and started to laugh, “I think you got into one of the Watcher’s naughty books, pet. Those old wankers make up all sorts of silliness and… well uh… I think they wank to it.” He laughed. Then stopped at the obvious look of disappointment on Xander’s face.

“Course,” amended Spike smoothly, “I was never very good at the lore.” He squirmed closer to Xander and wrapped his arms around him. “What else did the book say, luv?”

“Well,” said Xander remembering slowly. “It said we drink from each other. You already drank from me, and claimed me.”

“Mine,” agreed Spike obediently, snuggling Xander’s neck. He licked at the bite mark. Xander shuddered involuntarily.

“God, Spike. I felt that.”

Spike drew back worriedly. “It sting or somethin’?”

“No.” Xander giggled and wiggled into Spike. “It felt kinda sexy.”

“Mmmmm,” said Spike appreciatively, and licked it again.

Xander leaned into it. His hands began reaching for vampire parts. He stopped himself though as if struck by a thought. “Wait!” He petted Spike’s cheek until the vampire looked at him again. “Spike, I have to take your blood too.”

“What?” Spike ignored the weird tingle he suddenly felt in his belly. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s part of the claiming,” Xander said seriously. “I have to take your blood, too.” As he stroked Spike’s cheek, a very male possessiveness lit suddenly devilish eyes. “I have to bite you,” he whispered.

Spike felt his cock twitch. What the hell? He looked at Xander with concern. “I dunno, pet. Lots a weird mojo happens to vampire blood, I think.”

“Do you think it’d turn me?”

Spike made a disgusted noise. “Course not, have to kill you to turn you, pillock,” he playfully whacked at Xander’s daft head. “Just might do something else,” he said worriedly.

Xander snuggled closer. His lower lip stuck out in a succulent pout. “Pleeassse Spike,” he begged sweetly. “Just a little drop?”

Spike regarded him cautiously. That weird tingle in his belly had definitely worked its way into his cock, which was now steadily throbbing. Suddenly he wanted it as much as Xander. Wanted the man to bite him. Wanted him to claim him. He arched his neck and turned his head. “Take me, Xander,” he whispered huskily.

Xander groaned and swooped. His mouth latched onto Spike’s neck with a surprising viciousness. Spike felt his cock leap and harden immediately. He cried out. Xander grabbed him by the shoulders, held him steady and bit down as hard as he could. A small bit of blood leapt from the wound he made there and into his mouth. Xander gasped. Compared to the sensation of Spike’s blood, mescal was soda pop. He latched his mouth on and sucked hard. Beneath his hands he felt the vampire shaking all over. Spike suddenly cried out again and Xander felt warmth spill across one of his legs. Then he was being firmly pushed away.

“Enough!” said Spike harshly. They stared at one another.

“Well,” said Xander, panting. “That’s a definite ‘do again’, yeah?”

“Yeah,” breathed Spike.

Xander regarded the bite on Spike’s neck with an artists pride. “I claimed you, Spike,” he said with a big grin. “You’re mine.” As he said the last words he was suddenly overwhelmed by unexpected emotion. Tears welled in his eyes. Spike dove forward and hugged him close. “Xander. Love. What’s wrong?” He nuzzled the man worriedly. But Xander smiled again and closed his eyes against the tears, leaning into Spike’s embrace.

“I just liked saying that,” he said softly. He shivered a bit and shifted uncomfortably. “Floor’s getting hard and cold all of a sudden. Can we move this to the bed?” @12????


~*~*~*~*~


“Sure, love.” Spike anxiously hovered and gathered some blankets. When Xander lay down, he began piling them on top of him.

“Hey.” Xander lay back, his longish black hair curling against the pillow. He reached for Spike, who found himself unable to move for staring. “Hey, commeer, I wanna vampire blanket.”

“I’m cold,” Spike protested, nevertheless settling on the mattress and working his way into Xander’s arms. “You’ll get a chill.”

“You make me hot, silly, not cold.” But still Xander shivered.

“Xander, you’re shaking. You sure you’re okay?” Spike hovered over him anxiously; his hands stroking hair back, petting cheeks, adjusting blankets to cover cool skin. Xander smiled dreamily, he felt enervated and happy and the beginnings of arousal. It was like being seventeen again. Only with sex. He touched the wound he had made on Spike’s neck and the vampire involuntarily shuddered. He stilled and met Xander’s eyes.

“Wow.”

“Didja feel that?” Xander raised a pleased eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“Kinda cool, huh?” Xander brushed the mark again, pressing in a little bit this time and Spike issued a low, moaning growl.

“Xanderrrr.”

Xander chuckled, “It’s like I have my very own Spike ‘on’ switch.”

“I do wish you would quit with the plaything metaphors, mate. You’re starting to remind me of Dru.”

“Eewww,” said Xander, “and Eeww, why does that not feel like a compliment?”

“No no, heh,” laughed Spike, “I just mean she used to dress me up.” He ducked his head and Xander was shocked to see that Spike was embarrassed. “Ya know, dolly dresses and stuff. For Miss Edith to play with,” he explained, avoiding Xander’s eyes.

“Dolly dresses?” Xander did the math. Big vampire guy. Small doll dresses. Click. “Oohhh.” He gave Spike an astonished look. “And you let her.”

“Yeah, well, made her happy. Didn’t see what the bloody difference was.”

“Lace, and satin and ribbons?”

“fraid so.”

Xander paused gazing up at the ceiling, a delighted expression crossed his face. “How about leather?”

Spike was silent. Xander glanced sideways and saw the vampire glaring at him. “What about it, whelp?” he snarled.

“Maybe some studs? A coupla chains?”

“You really do want me to hurt you, don’t you Xan?”

“Yeah,” breathed Xander, rolling over. He pushed up against Spike forcefully, letting his mouth hover over his mark. His hand drifted lazily down to cup the vampire’s cock. He licked the mark and felt the penis jump under his hand. “Oh yeah.”

“God. Xander.” Spike struggled a bit and caught Xander’s hands, held him away. “You’ve gotta rest, mate. It’s nighttime. Mortals sleep now, right?”

“Not sleepy,” said Xander wiggling. “Horny. Wanna fuck.”

“Still?” Spike pushed away further and pulled himself up to sit. His hand smoothed Xander’s hair back from his face as he studied him. “What’s with you, Xan? You’re all jumpy and shaking and …” he paused and thought for a minute. “And your blood tasted weird, mate. Now I think of it.”

Xander let his eyes drop and concentrated on a patch of smooth, white skin above Spike’s navel. “Feel fine,” he said shortly. “Feel great!” he realized.

Spike looked worried. “Shouldn’t a let you have my blood,” he said slowly.

Xander placed his mouth over the patch of skin on Spike’s belly. It tasted like a vanilla creamsicle, he decided, his tongue lapping softly. “Spiiiike,” he whined, wriggling and licking a path up the vampire’s chest. He found himself at Spike’s mouth and kissed him hard. Pulled back and smiled into his worried eyes. “I feel terrific, Spike. No hangover, no nausea. Feel all strong and virile,” he said, wriggling suggestively.

Spike regarded him. “Yeah.”

“C’mon Spike. Wanna play with Spikie. Hey!” Xander raised his head and looked at Spike again, “Before. When we were, uh, you know? How come you didn’t...” his cheeks turned pink as he smiled shyly. “How come you didn’t fuck me, Spike?”

“Xander, mate. I think we should go talk to the witch.”

Xander ignored him. “How come, Spike?” He lay his head on Spike’s chest. Spike stroked the dark head gently.

“Didn’t wanna hurt you. Xan,” he said. “’t’s been awhile I guess, I was thinking you might tear.” Spike ignored the painful image of Xander standing in the mausoleum that rose into his mind. “Wasn’t sure I could stay in control if you did,” he said sadly.

Xander lay quietly on Spike’s chest for a few moments. He enjoyed the cool, smooth flesh pillowed under his cheek, his hand drifted lazily back and forth across a hardened nipple. Spike’s fingers carded and drew through his hair in a soothing rhythm. Xander allowed himself to luxuriate in the comfort and bliss for a second, then drew a deep breath. “If we aren’t honest with our friends, it’s like we aren’t really there…” quoted Dawn in his mind.

“Probably would have been alright,” he suggested slowly. He rolled his head sideways and touched the silky chest with his mouth. “Hasn’t been that long,” he murmured very low.

Spike didn’t move. But then, he hadn’t been moving before, the whole not breathing thing, of course. But his hand in Xander’s hair paused. “Yeah?” he said in a cool, non-committal voice.

Xander barreled ahead. “Um, yeah. Actually it’s been,” he calculated rapidly in his head, his heart starting to pound fearfully in his chest. “Guess it’s been about five months.”

“Five months?” Spike repeated in that same, cool voice. “Since a man fucked you?” he said a little more harshly. His hand had completely withdrawn from Xander’s hair and he lay there quietly under Xander. There was a longish silence.

Xander pushed up on his elbows and looked into Spike’s face. He didn’t know why, but he had expected to see anger there, maybe condemnation. What he saw instead was worse. Spike looked confused. Crestfallen even. He met Xander’s eye with a sad expression and tried to smile a little. It was a pathetic attempt.

“Yeah.” Xander held Spike’s eye. “It’s been a long and weird five years, man. I’ve been pretty fucked up. Took a lotta backroads.”

“How many?”

“Errm, how many?”

“Yes, “ Spike enunciated clearly, his expression wavering now between sorrow and something else, “how many back roads have you taken?”

Xander looked down. “Don’t really know.” He would have laughed but it suddenly seemed too awful. “Can’t remember,” he whispered. He felt the guilt wash over him again, all those not-even-remembered young men, perhaps as yet unknowingly, carrying his disease. He twisted away from it mentally and turned his own body away from Spike. “Sorry.”

“Xander.” Spike’s hand gently touched his shoulder. Xander forced himself to turn his head back. To face Spike. Spike looked so sad and his eyes looked ancient and tired. “Xander, you don’t need to apologize to me. We weren’t … you weren’t …” Spike closed his eyes, clenched his jaw. When he looked at Xander again his expression had become fierce. “But you’re mine, now, Alexander Harris,” he said intently. He rolled, caught Xander in his arms and pinned him beneath him on the mattress. “You’re not whoring around anymore, you understand?” he growled down at him.

Xander took in a deep breath and stared up into blue eyes flickering with amber. He would have expected Spike’s sudden possessiveness to anger and frighten him. Instead he felt excited. And not a little aroused. He wriggled and tried to find friction against Spike for his suddenly needy cock. “Yours,” he growled back, staring into Spike’s hungry eyes. “I’m yours, Spike.”

The vampire worked his pelvis into position over Xander’s until their swollen cocks bumped, then pushed down hard, rocking his hips back and forth. Still holding Xander’s eyes, he dipped his head down and began carefully licking at the crusty remains of cum on Xander’s cheek. “Dirty boy,” he growled.

“Yeah,” Xander gasped, pushing his hips into Spike, turning his cheek up into Spike’s tongue. “Make me clean, Spike,” he whimpered.

Spike growled, his head dipped and his tongue dragged down Xander’s cheek to his neck and over his mark. Xander bucked up against him and clutched at his shoulder. Spike licked Xander’s ear. “Got any slippery stuff?” he whispered.

Xander tried to gather his thoughts enough to answer. “Uh, actually no,” he laughed, “I’ve been kinda swearing abstinence and stuff.” He groaned as Spike thrust against him, tongue swirling around his ear. “Get some stuff from the bathroom?” Xander suggested desperately. Spike reared back and leapt off him with preternatural grace, swept from the room completely naked. Xander lay bereft on his back. He had just begun to entertain the idea of an exhausted and beleaguered Giles clutching his chest in the throes of apoplexy at the vision of a naked vampire in the hallway, when Spike was back in the room. He flopped on top of Xander again, not gently.

“Baby oil?” he suggested. “Giant economy size.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Xander wriggled and tried to get his dick rubbing against Spike’s again. “Good, good.”

Spike reared up, grabbed Xander’s legs and shoved them up in the air, forcing Xander’s head rather hard towards the headboard. Xander grabbed at the sheets. “Whoa, man,” he protested. “What are you … Oooh,” he groaned as the contents of room temperature giant economy size baby oil was poured over his belly. His legs were unceremoniously hooked over Spike’s shoulders, and the vampire’s hands dug into the oil on his belly and began rubbing it in, dragging it down over his cock, slathering that with firm strokes, rubbing the oil gently into his balls and over his entrance. Xander made incoherent noises that were intended as encouragement as Spike’s eager fingers thrust and pulled and pushed the oil into his hole.

“Oh, god, Xander,” moaned the vampire feverishly, “been fantasizing about this forever.” His fingers thrust deeply into Xander’s warm entrance, searching for that spot he had read about. That spot he had found once, so long ago. Xander arched and cried out and Spike smiled triumphantly and turned his head to kiss one well-muscled calf. “Yeah. That’s it, that’s my boy’s sweet spot, yeah.” He rubbed back and forth on the spongy spot, watching Xander’s cock jump, delightedly batting away the boy’s grabby hands. “Oh no you don’t, Harris,” he growled. “This is MINE.” He shuffled forward and placed the head of his cock against Xander’s hole, pushed slightly. His demon roared at the apparent ease with which his head was taken in, but Spike focused only on the joy of finally having his boy, and refused to think about how many had been here before him. Xander panted below him, now thrusting towards the pressure on his entrance, babbling nonsense with the occasional “Yes” thrown in. Spike pushed in with one firm thrust and Xander rose up off the mattress, threw his arms up to the headboard and pushed back hard. He cried out happily. “Yeah. Fuck me.” And his hips began rhythmically thrusting onto Spike’s shaft.

Spike was overcome at the sensations running through him. He was buried deep in Xander. Heat and tight spasming walls and the feeling of blood around his dick made his head spin. Xander’s cries and animalistic lust were beyond any masturbation fantasy he had dared to entertain, and he bit fiercely at his own tongue to control his impending orgasm. But his demon was roaring with rage. Rage and possession and a desire to cleanse the violated area, to cleanse and reclaim and own. Spike fought the images of countless men here before him, but his demon furiously marched them out again. Spike unconsciously upped the tempo of his thrusts, twisting his hips frantically, trying to rub every square inch of Xander’s hole with his cock, marking the boy everywhere. He grabbed at Xander’s cock in an iron grip, noting the ridges and demonic skin emerging on his hand. He began jerking Xander off. Squeezing tightly until Xander cried out with a little more than lust, only relaxing his grasp by severe effort of will. The effort only made him pump Xander’s hole with more frenzy. His other hand, now fully clawed, wandered over Xander’s torso, drawing a sharp edge around a nipple. A little welt of redness appeared. Xander’s eyes snapped open.

“Spike!” he cried frantically, still thrusting. Xander felt he would rather be split open by those claws than stop Spike from fucking him. But still, “Spike! You there?”

The demon’s angry, wild eyes softened and blue rippled through them. His thrusts never slowed but he withdrew his hand, wrapped it around Xander’s leg and pushed into the warm channel while watching the brown eyes react to every thrust. “Yeah, Xan, yeah, love,” he chanted happily. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Xander groaned and gave himself up to the sensations again. Spike’s hand still stroked his cock rapidly, Spike’s cock still firmly shoved deeply inside him over and over, he felt his balls tightening. “Spike,” he groaned, “Spike. Spike.”

The vampire pushed forward, forcing Xander’s legs back to the mattress; he was bent double and could not move. Spike’s belly rubbed against his dick and the vampire found the angle that would hit Xander’s prostate repeatedly. He latched onto Xander’s mouth and thrust his tongue in practically to the back of Xander’s throat. Xander writhed and shook beneath him. His hands came up and grabbed Spike’s head as he kissed the vampire back, his finger’s traveled down as if drawn there, and rubbed at the wound on Spike’s neck.

Spike drew back with a snarl, pistoning with astonishing speed and vigor. The demonic visage flashed on and off. Xander grabbed the demon’s face and fastened his mouth to those cruel lips. His tongue reached out and stroked the fangs eagerly. It was so erotic he repeated the motion over and over. Above him, Spike squirmed and growled. The growl reverberated in Xander’s mouth. As if by instinct, Xander drew his tongue deliberately over the edge of a needle sharp tooth. He felt the sting of pain in his tongue, and Spike descend on his mouth with fury. The vampire was groaning and fucking him hard and sucking on his tongue. Xander was light headed and so overcome with the sensation of Spike drawing blood from him yet again that he began to lose track of events as they happened. So he could never really say what exactly took place next. He felt the demon emerge again. The ridges rubbing against his cheeks as Spike took possession of his mouth. Hard, strong hips banged repeatedly against his ass. He heard the low growl emanating from Spike, the slap of skin on flesh, his own deep groans. Then the demon reared back, and he saw Spike bite hard on his own mouth with those teeth, the welling of blood on his lips and that face descended once more to his. The fiery liquid flowed over his tongue and poured down his throat like white light. He latched onto the lips with ravenous hunger and sucked and chewed at them savagely, wanting more. Needing more. The blood seemed to rapidly fill his belly then spread out to the rest of his body. It was like being struck by an internal lightning bolt. Xander arched against Spike, every nerve, every muscle in his body completely taken over, his climax rose from balls alive with the white fire and shot streams of hot sperm over their bellies.

Spike felt Xander coming. He felt his orgasm rising from his balls and desperately thrust at wild angles, imagining himself coating every inch of Xander’s insides. His orgasm continued to rip through him and he drew out and thrust again onto Xander’s spent member, mixing the remains of his sperm with Xander’s. He pulled himself violently from Xander’s still sucking mouth and stared into Xander’s eyes. The demon threw back his head and yowled like a bobcat. “Mine!” he demanded.

They remained like that, lost in each other, shaking as the waves of orgasm swept through them. Blood on both their mouths, cum soaking their chests and dribbling down into the sheets. Xander was gasping for breath. His face and neck were suffused with bright color, his eyes wild, pupils dilated. “Mine,” he responded, panting. “You’re mine, Spike.” Once again the words brought tears to his eyes, but now he was helpless to control them. He felt as if something old and tumorous were breaking free of him and dropping away. Huge tears rolled down his cheeks and his chest began to heave with sobs of relief and pain. “Spike,” he whispered, “God. I want to be yours, Spike.”

At Xander’s first signs of distress, Spike had moved instinctively to soothe him, but now he froze and looked away. Those words everything he had ever wanted to hear, and still the stuff of nightmares he couldn’t forget. He struggled to control his emotions. A good part of him wanted to back off, physically and emotionally, from this moment. To assess. To think. A part, his wild unbeating heart, wanted to leap off this cliff again, to hell with the consequences. But another part of him, oddly and profoundly stronger than anything else, wanted to comfort and soothe. Heal and make happy. He wanted to protect Xander. Even from what the man inflicted on himself. So instead of drawing back from Xander, Spike turned back to him and leant to his face. With gentle cat like licks he lapped up the tears as they trickled down. He rubbed with his whole body in a comforting rhythm against the heaving chest, his hands running over shaking limbs soothingly. Xander’s sobs died down, the tears abated and he relaxed under Spike’s ministrations. Closing his eyes and turning his head into the pillow, he drifted off to sleep.

Spike nuzzled against his human, listening to the heartbeat as it slowed to a normal rhythm, the breathing evening out and deepening. He carefully eased off Xander and tucked the blankets firmly around them both, so that his lack of body heat would not give Xander a chill. Then he lay his head back on Xander’s chest and listened to the thump of his heart. He ran things back through his mind and vowed that in the morning he would seek out Willow and have a little chat.




~*~*~*~*~





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