The Missing Piece
“Roomies again, eh Fangless? Ah how I missed the sweet sweet irritation of your presence,” Xander said lightly, standing in the doorway.
“Know what you want,” Spike murmured. “What you always wanted. Not so thick that I don’t know. All I’m good for, innit?”
Xander blinked, startled. Okay, yeah Spike’s all with the crazy. So much for the stellar “Get Spike Sane” plan. You can take the vamp out of the basement, but you can’t take the evil psycho basement hallucinations out of the vamp.
“Riiight,” Xander said slowly. “You know what I want. Gotcha. Mind telling me so we can both know?”
“ ‘S what you all want,” Spike said dully. “Angelus, Dru, Buffy. S’pose I ought to be grateful I’m good. Wicked an’ evil, but I got talent, don’t I? Can give and give, open and bleeding. Just take what you want, Harris. Not like anyone’ll know. Or care.”
“And I’m so not on board the crazy train, Spike. What the fuck are you rambling about,” Xander asked, mystified.
“You,” Spike told him, finally looking up. “Smell it every time you get near me. Since that first night. Just do it and be done.”
Xander shook his head, and grimaced. Clearly getting a straight answer out of Spike was hopeless. That wasn’t anything new, though. Xander hadn’t ever gotten a straight answer out of the bleached menace before, so why should the crazy make any difference? With a sigh, he turned around and left.
“Night, Spike,” he called out. “Try to sleep. Might help with the sanity issue.”
Spike waited, patient and still. He listened to the rhythm of Xander’s heart, losing himself in the thub dub. That was what was missing. It was why he couldn’t find his way. He’d flailed and floundered for so long now. Good, evil, he didn’t know anymore what he was supposed to be. He’d tried so hard, changed so many times he barely remembered who he was anymore. But, he’d figured it out. He’d thought and thought, rolling it over in his mind until finally he’d figured it out. Now, he just had to wait. He could do that. He’d been waiting forever. What was another hour?
When the rhythm slowed, he crept from his bed. Slinking along in the shadows, he made his way to Xander’s room. Quiet, quiet. Wouldn’t do to make a sound. A century’s worth of deadly skill and he was shaking now at the thought of crossing a mere two feet of carpet. Funny Spike, so ridiculous and worthless.
No. He shook his head violently. Not now, not anymore. He’d show them that he could be what they wanted. If he was good enough, he’d find what he needed, what was missing.
The spark hadn’t helped. He thought it would, but it didn’t. The missing piece found and he still didn’t fit. One more piece, than. One more and it would all make sense. He’d fit, they’d fit, it would all fit.
He reached out a finger, stopping a hairsbreadth from Xander’s lips. He wished he could taste those lips, feel the sweetness of their loving touch. But that wasn’t real. Buffy had kissed him and there had been no sweetness there. He understood now what Drusilla said to him. The taste of ashes was horrible, and nothing washed it away. Spike fancied that if he kissed Xander, really kissed him, the dusty heaviness in his mouth would disappear.
No matter. He knew now to discipline himself out of hope. It was so difficult, not to want it. Arms that welcomed him, kept him safe and warm; hands that touched him gently; eyes that glowed only for him. Those weren’t for him. Just this, skin on skin, being finally complete. That was all, and it would have to be enough.
Spike gently slid the blanket away from Xander’s sleeping form. The young man’s body glowed, luminous, in the sliver of moonlight. Spike smiled at the sight, drinking in the long lines of Xander’s nude body. It was strong. A strength he could see and respect. Uncomplicated as women’s bodies were not.
With smooth unhurried grace, Spike straddled Xander’s lean hips. He was prepared, slicked and oh so ready for this. He reached behind him, one slim hand circling the silky rigidity of Xander’s cock. Spike slid all the way down, taking Xander deep inside him just as Xander’s eyes flew open.
“Sp-spike? What the…oooh,” Xander moaned.
“Tired of waiting,” Spike said huskily. “Told you I knew what you wanted. The only thing any of you want. ‘Cept this time, it’s my decision. I’m not giving, I’m taking. “
Xander could only stare wide-eyed as Spike rode his dick. The sweet lazy movements of Spike above him, the soft pale skin shining silver, it all felt like a dream. Xander lifted a hand up, tentatively stroking the outside of Spike’s thigh. It was unreal, feeling firm hard muscle under his fingers instead of round softness.
“Need it,” Spike crooned. “Need to fit. Xander, make me fit.”
Xander moaned deep in his throat. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, but it felt so damn good. Feeling Spike flutter around his cock, tight and wet, was the best feeling in the world. Xander grasped at Spike’s rocking hips, trying to chase this pleasure back to its source. His balls ached, drawing up as the familiar sweet burn sizzled and crackled along his shaft.
“Spike,” he groaned. “Spike, I’m gonna…Need to…fuck!”
Xander’s body bowed, arching towards that cool satiny sheathe. His cock twitched, emptying into Spike’s welcoming body. As the roar of his orgasm faded, he relaxed, body going limp.
Spike watched him, avidly absorbed in the expressions of pleasure on Xander’s face. He sat perfectly still, legs clenched tight around Xander. As Xander began to relax, Spike lifted himself off the now softening prick.
“Thank you,” Spike said softly and turned to go.
Xander, dazed and sated, could only watch the vampire leave. He wanted to be angry, but he wasn’t. He should feel used, but he didn’t. He felt…Xander struggled to put his feelings into some sort of coherency. He felt…cherished. Spike had given him something important. Something stronger than sex and deeper than souls, maybe.
Xander resolved to figure this out. As soon as the world wasn’t ending, he promised himself. Once this thing with The First was out of the way, they’d have time to sit down and he’d make Spike explain.