Virtual Personal

Part Five

It was crazy. Spike was trying to permeate every aspect of his life and Xander wasn’t sure how to stop him. Oh yeah, and this was only the second day after he’d managed to animate his statue. Dammit… he should know better than to try his hand at magic.

“What? I was just eating,” Spike said from across the breakfast table.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re glaring at me, aren’t you. Did you want something?” The vampire drawled, his voice thick with insinuation.

“NO!” Xander had quickly learned what ‘do you want something’ meant… it was a trick question, which usually led to sex. Hot, urgent, sweaty, mind blowing man-on-man sex. Which was bad. Right? Bad.

Spike smirked and poured cereal into his bowl.

“What?” This time it was Xander’s turn for paranoia.

“Nothing. Well... you shouted ‘no’... usually means ‘yes’.”

“Does not!”

“Did last night. ‘No, no... don’t stop... Spike, no... no...’” As the artist blushed, Spike gave an unapologetic shrug. “Thought it was strange, but cute.”

“It is not cute.”

“Sexy, then.”


“Is that a no, or a NO!?”

“I hate you,” Xander stormed to the door. “I’m going out. And no, you can’t go with me.” As he slammed the door behind him, he hardened his heart. Spike did look sad, and he had nowhere else to go, and yes it wasn’t his fault he was here... but still, the guy was damned exasperating. Plus he tied Xander up in knots, which wasn’t a good thing.


Hours later, well into the evening, Xander returned to find Spike still in the chair at the dinner table. “You haven’t been there all day, have you?”

Spike shrugged.

“How about the t.v.? You could have watched the t.v.! You know, sat on the sofa...” Guilt ate at him.

“Couldn’t figure out how to turn the bloody thing on.”

That was when Xander noticed it was unplugged. “Look, this goes here,” he demonstrated, “now it’ll work.”

“Fat bloody lot of good it’ll do me now. Right, never mind. I’m here for your pleasure, anyway. What’s your pleasure?” Spike got up, spun around and sat again, this time straddling the chair and leaning his arms on the back of the chair.

“You’re leering... stop that.”

“You’re leering right back. Don’t stop.”

“I... I am! Ugh. Well stop rocking like that.”


The way Spike sucked his cheeks in to give him a pouty smile made Xander’s heart leap against his chest, and his legs shaky. “W... why?”

“That’s right, luv. Why?” This time, Spike swung his knees back and forth, widening them and bringing them back into the side of the chair.

Xander couldn’t help but focus on Spike’s groin, and dammit... he’d gone from soft to hard, despite muttering his resistance mantra all day. He swallowed hard. “I’m... I’m going to bed.”

As he started heading for the bedroom, he suddenly felt Spike goose his ass, and shrieked. “What are you doing?!” His hands had flown protectively over his ass.

“Coming to bed. I’m ‘made for you’ and all that. Wouldn’t want you to have to take care of that all on your own, he answered, running three fingers down the ridge clearly visible through Xander’s jeans... and earning yet another shriek.

“No... not happening.” Xander marched out to his studio and brought the light guest bed inside, and set it up in the bedroom. “You... there. Me... here. And stop looking at me like that. We’ll figure out what we’re doing with you tomorrow... but its not what you think.”

“That’s what you think.”

Xander all but growled in frustration at Spike’s belligerence as he quickly took his shirt off, slipped into bed and pulled his jeans off.

Spike, on the other hand, had no qualms about showing himself off.

The blond pulled his shirt up one inch at a time, revealing a sliver of perfect skin at his waist. Xander sucked his breath in as his creation’s chiseled abs and chest were revealed. The bastard was running his own hands over the planes of his chest, and making Xander want to do the same... making him want it so bad his hand was reaching between his own legs.

“Won’t be the same. Not once you’ve had a taste of me,” Spike smirked, unbuttoning his jeans and dragging it down his ass. His cock jutted out, as ready as it had been all night last night. “Let’s fuck.”

“What... NO!”


“No,” Xander whispered.

“Bit hard to believe, what with your hand where it is. You imagining me on top of you?”

“Fuck no.” It was the truth... he was imagining himself all over Spike... fucking every perfect limb, ever powerful muscle carved into his thighs... his cock, his abs... fuck, he wanted it all. Cheeks burning, he shut the light with a decisive pull of a chain.

There were ten long minutes of silence. Xander’s heart was about to burst as it pumped his blood all the way down to his groin. He couldn’t get the images out of his head. His hand moved back and forth over his shaft, and sheer frustration drove him to turn to his side and try again. Spike was right... this wasn’t working for him anymore. Still, he kept trying... needing release so bad it hurt.

“Guh...” he opened his eyes to see Spike had lifted his sheet. In a single heartbeat, he was on the makeshift bed, on top of Spike, fucking him so hard the springs of the bed were squeaking under the strain. “I hate you... hate you for making me want this.”

Spike’s arms closed around Xander’s waist and ass. He literally pushed and pulled the boy to get more friction. “I love the way you hate me. Don’t stop hating me, yeah.”

“Fuck you, Spike.”

“Oh yeah,” he started to turn over but Xander had him trapped and was still fucking the hell out of him. “’sall good, I’m easy,” he amended, lifting his hips up to meet Xander thrust for thrust. The artist was moving over him so hard, his breath so labored, his brown eyes as intense as they’d been while he was creating him in the late night hours. “Hate me harder,” he said, spurring him on.

“Fuck, fuck... son of a...” Xander was out of his head with need, a need so strong it swamped everything else, all of his resolve, all of his good intentions. All he knew was that this man... this vampire made him burn like no one else had, and he needed a way to put out the fire. “Spi... Spike...”

“Yeah, oh yeah,” Spike jerked up against Xander with as much violence and desperation as the artist. “Good... so good.”

“Oh God... oh my fucking God,” Xander gripped his lover’s hips and pounded into him a few more times, shouting his release and still moving against him. He was riding the peaks and valleys of his orgasm, when he found his mouth plastered against Spike’s and it wasn’t his own doing. He tried to pull away. “NO!”

“Right, got you. That’s a NO!,” Rolling them over, Spike took control of the kiss, using his tongue, and his body as weapons to show Xander it was alright, that this was right... that it was beautiful, and that it was exactly what the spell was intended for.

Protest... where was a good protest when you needed one? His mind was so foggy, and God... if felt good, so so good, to get the daylights kissed out of you by a perfectly shaped mouth, even if you had to avoid some razor sharp teeth. Even if you had to choose between breathing and dying a slow, delicious death, as tongue slid against tongue.

Part Six

“Date? What do you mean you’ve got a date?”

“Date... mean’s I’m taking someone out to dinner, and a movie. Means I’m seeing someone. What part of 'date' don’t you understand.” Xander forced himself not to flinch under the intensity of Spike’s gaze.

“You’ve arranged a threesome, for us.”

“Nope. You’re not invited Spike. I’ve got a date, with a woman. A real one. Flesh and blood...” He lost track of his thoughts when he saw the vampire pull up his shirt and pinch his very real flesh. “I mean one who’s always been real... no spells involved. Look, I’m going to figure out what I did, and I’m going to fix it. In the meantime, I’ve got to live my life, okay?”

“I’m stopping you from living your life.”


“By warming your otherwise cold bed at night.”

“Right... I mean...”

“And making you laugh.”

“Yes.” Okay that sounded downright inane. “Yes when I don’t want to laugh". Still with the sounding inane...

“I see.”

It was clear from his tone, that the vampire did not see.

“Who is he?”

“It’s a she, not a he. I date women.”

“Can we have a threesome then?”


“Is that a NO?”

“No it’s a whispered ‘no’... argh, don’t do this to me!” The doorbell rang. “Okay, you shoo... I don’t want her seeing you. And... watch t.v. or something, don’t just sit there waiting. Also, I may not come home.” He would have kept talking if his creation’s face hadn’t fallen. Never, in his entire life, had he seen an attractive pout like that. “Come on Spike, we’ll figure this out, alright? But I gotta go back to my normal life.” It had been two weeks of this... of hot sex, remorse, plotting about ways to get back to normal and failing. He had to move on.

Once the dejected blond left the room, Xander opened the door and let in his very curvy date. He’d been told she was a ‘sure thing’... something he really needed right now in order to drive his creation out of his mind. “Mary, you look... great.” Right, keep the ‘less make up and shorter nails’ tip to yourself.

She smiled, “So do you. Are you going to invite me in?”

Xander looked over his shoulder, then widened the door. “Yeah, I was... come in. Want a drink before we go?” He hoped she said no.

“Sure, red wine?”

“Good, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

Tossing her lustrous mane of black hair behind her shoulders, she sat down, then lifted up again. Xander felt his stomach hollow out as she pulled a satin red pair of boxers out from under her. Spike’s. Damn him...

“What have we here?” She held the boxers by their waistband and jiggled them around in a dance. “Sexy...”

Heat stained his cheeks as he made a grab for them. “Sorry, they’re ... uh....”

She gave a husky laugh. “I do laundry too.”

“Right, that’s it... I was folding.” In a few strides, he’d opened the bedroom door and tossed the boxers onto the bed. No, he wasn’t going to think about how Spike had looked in them... or how he’d lost them on the damned sofa. And where the hell was he?

Figuring the vampire was sulking in the studio, he tried to relax and rejoined Mary. Everything was nice and normal as they chatted about the movie they would see later. Nice and normal, no lacing every other word with innuendo, no making him want things he didn’t want to want, no getting him so flustered and needy he couldn’t think. And he was so busy proving to himself he could hold a normal conversation, he almost didn’t notice that she had gone wordless.

“Mary, you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” she purred, licking her lips and looking a bit stunned.

“Bout the movie—“


She seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Something about that was familiar. “Mary?”

“You didn’t tell me you have a roommate,” she finally said, her voice thin and breathy.

Xander turned around to find Spike had walked in and was ignoring them as he opened a beer. But there was no way on earth anyone could ignore Spike. He was shirtless and not only showing off his rippling muscles but... holy fuck, his jeans were partially undone and pushed down low on his hips. “Spike!”

Piercing blue eyes turned toward him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Just a bit thirsty, is all. I’ll get going.”

But he was doing the OPPOSITE of going, he was coming over, and shaking Mary’s hand, and she looked like she was about to drool. Xander frowned.

“Hello, I’m Spike.”

“Hi, I’m... you look like an Abercrombie and Fitch commercial.”

“That’s a rather long name, do you have a nick name?” he asked.

“Let her go. Let her hand go,” Xander snapped, very much aware that it was Mary who had the death grip and not his creation.

She gave an embarrassed laugh and let go of Spike’s hand. “Mary, it’s Mary. Don’t leave on my account. Um...”

Her gaze was centered on Spike’s fly when she lost her words. Spike met Xander’s angry gaze. “See... you’re normal, she’s...”

“Spike, I’m having a date. Don’t ruin it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Spike took a pull of his beer.

“And put your clothes on!” He was having as much trouble thinking as Mary, dammit.

“Not on my account,” Mary protested, “but why are you... you know, undressed...”

“I’m his model,” Spike nodded toward Xander. “Greek Gods, cowboys... everything he carves, I’m a part of it...”

“Wow... I’d like to see more...”

Xander noticed the way her eyes shifted down Spike’s jean clad legs and he knew she meant she wanted to see more of him. His blood started to boil, and he grabbed her by the hand. “Right... I’ll show you my studio. Spike, don’t be here when we get back.”

He almost dragged Mary outside to the studio, banging the door shut behind them.

Mary’s reluctance, and her insistence at finding out which statues he’d carved using Spike as a model were annoying, and more so because he was already irritated. Her feeble attempts at critical commentary about art required a lot of thought – just so his answers wouldn’t make her sound stupid.

Then he saw a movement and turned his head to a point behind her. Fucking hell... Spike was behind a statue of Adonis, one arm stroking his stomach and the other the statue’s cock. Xander tried to close his eyes to it, but when he opened them, he felt heat surge through his body. God damn him.

“How about this one,” she asked.

Pulling his gaze away, Xander followed her and started telling her what had inspired him. Only... he kept trailing off. How could he not, when Spike was moving from one statue to another, humping, kissing... being suggestive... argh.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, Spike pulled his jeans down lower and showed his ass crack as he ‘rode’ on the back of a carved jaguar. All of Xander’s blood drained straight to his cock. Straining against his jeans, all Xander could think about was riding that ass.

Mary turned, “ooh, pretty panther.”

“Jaguar,” Xander panted, then took a deep breath. He was afraid to find out where Spike had disappeared. With good cause.

He was now sitting between the legs of a Roman foot soldier. Bastard. He had one hand on each of the statue’s thighs and was moving them restlessly up and down, then rubbing his cheek up the inside of one thigh.

Fuck. Xander’s gaze locked with Spike. Okay, alright... he wanted him. Needed him. And he was going to kill him, right after he had him.

“Is this the cowboy?”

Marching to Mary’s side, he took her hand and started pulling her out of his studio. “Sorry, I’m feeling a bit... sick. Won’t be able to go out tonight... really sorry,” he didn’t listen to her words of protest until he got her inside out the main door.

“Well maybe Spike can go with...”

Slamming the door in her face, Xander stalked back inside. “Spike! Where are you, you son of a...”

Inside the studio, he couldn’t see him. “God damn it, get out here...” Fuck, he needed him.

Spike appeared inside the door frame, looking very casual. “Decided against the date, then? You know, I’m quite sure she’d have gone for a threesome.”

Xander made an enraged sound as he stormed over, and shoved Spike up against the door.

“I think a bed might be better, luv.”

“Shut up.” Angry, sexed up, and unable to control the urgency thrumming through his system, Xander wanted just one thing. His mouth descended hard over Spike’s, his tongue seeking, searching... trying to find peace... trying to get away from the flames of need licking his body. It was impossible... he just got edgier... rougher as he groped the perfect planes of Spike’s chest and thrust against him.

“Right... I’m right here,” Spike soothed, pushing Xander’s shirt up.

Xander pulled away, impatiently tore it off himself, then pulled Spike’s jeans down. “I hate you.”

“Starting that again, are we? I love when you hate...unh,” Spike found himself spun around and had to put his hands out to avoid smashing his face into the door. “In a bit of a hurry are we? Would you like a drink... some whiskey.”

“No, I don’t need whiskey, I—“

“Never did think you did,” Spike crowed, arching his back.

“Argh... hate when you do that.”

“Lube’s there,” Spike nodded toward a table.

“What... how...”

“Knew you couldn’t keep your hands off me, yeah.” He chuckled and bit his lip as Xander prepared him.

Gripping Spike’s waist, Xander pressed his pulsing cock against his entrance. “God.... you drive me crazy...” The image of Spike riding on the back of the jaguar firmly in his mind, Xander pushed inside, crying out hoarsely as Spike clenched around him, arousing him further. “Fuck..”

“Good idea, mate... back and forth, yeah... in and out...” Spike nudged his ass against Xander, leaned back and offered his mouth.

Xander pushed deeper inside him and was engulfed by flames. He covered Spike’s mouth, devoured it as he fucked him, hard, fast... relentlessly surging deeper and deeper with each thrust. He wanted to hate him, wanted to deny him... wanted to deny this, but he couldn’t, not when a fire raged in his body. Not when the sounds Spike was making echoed around him, made him want to possess... to keep... to brand.

Spike writhed under Xander, put his arms behind him and tried to pull him as close as possible. “Right... I’m right here,” he whispered as Xander exploded inside him, and then held him tight. It was hard to tell who was holding whom up.

“That’s it, then.”

“What?” Xander’s breath was ragged. He couldn’t even push away from the door and was still plastered against Spike’s back, thought he was kissing the side of his throat.

“Mind and soul. I think you got them both in one fell swoop, yeah?


“You want me body, mind and soul...”

“Yeah. Oh shit.” Xander sagged against Spike, it was true... he couldn’t imagine giving him up now. But how was he going to fit him into his life.

“Is that a good oh shit?”

“Don’t start.”

Part Seven

The way Buffy and Willow were staring at Spike, who was leaning against their kitchen counter, you’d think he was on the damn menu. It made Xander a tad uncomfortable, though... hello, not like they didn’t get the same reaction from everyone else. He’d thought the florist boy who offered to carry the flowers to the car was getting ready to get in the car and come home with them. And the woman at the grocery store checkstand... she’d made so many mistakes while ogling Spike, they’d paid $27 for groceries that should have cost him over $100.


“Beer?” Buffy repeated blankly.

“That would be lovely.”


“Thanks luv, but we’re getting a bit circular here. Beer would be lovely,” Spike said, his amused grin widening in direct correlation with the lever of Xander’s increasing irritation.

“Buffy!” Xander snapped. “Spike wants a beer. Fridge... beer.”

“Uh... oh, right, beer...” she headed to the fridge, but looked over her shoulder at Xander’s friend, then mouthed, “he doesn’t have a girl friend, does he?”

Before Xander could answer, Willow jumped in. “Spike. His... his name’s Spike. The other night when you canceled our movie plans, you said a blood sucker named Spike was at fault.”

Xander’s mouth fell open, but no sounds came out.

Spike didn’t have the same problem. “I don’t suck blood, but I do suck much better things. And I’m good at it, ask Xander.” He hooked his thumb confidently into his belt loop and looked at Xander for confirmation.

This time Willow’s mouth fell open.

“Ah... Okay, we’re not going there. Spike is... he’s... well he’s my....”

“Boyfriend,” Spike filled in for Xander, who seemed to be gulping for air between every word that left his mouth.

“NO! My ... friend.”

“That right, luv?” Lifting an eyebrow, Spike started to follow Buffy. “You were asking if I had any girlfriends? Sadly not yet. Maybe—“

“Boyfriend! He’s my... my....” With both girls whipping their faces toward him and staring, Xander faltered.

“Boyfriend,” Spike smugly said, walking over and putting an arm around Xander’s waist and kissing the side of his throat. “Now how about we suck some—“


“ down. What is it love, is there something else that needs sucking?” Reaching out, he plucked the beer bottle out of Buffy’s nerveless fingers.


"Is that a NO! no or a..."

"Spike please..." Xander scrambled away from his outrageous lover. You'd think a statue would need time to adjust to talking to people and finding new friends, but no... he was just adept at embarrassing the hell out of Xander.

He saw Spike's gaze fall to his groin and panicked. "NO! That's a real no... a no no."

"Well if you don't want him," Buffy started to tease, when Xander gave her a back off look like she'd never seen from him. "Okay, so beer, and company... let's go sit." Even as she dragged her gaze away from Xander's boyfriend, she had to struggle to keep her eyes off him. "I can understand why you went gay..."

"Buffy people don't just go gay..." When Willow felt her friend's glance, she gave up. "So, you saw Spike and you basically went..."

Sitting down with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, Spike made himself comfortable and patted the spot on the couch next to him. Xander's slight hesitation only made Spike's eyes burn bluer with mischief, scaring Xander into quickly sitting down without any argument.

"So... Where did you meet, and how did you get all mushy mushy... assuming you're all..." Seeing Spike's raised eyebrow and the blush staining Xander's cheeks, Willow had her answer.

Nervous, Xander licked his lips and opened his mouth--.

"In the studio. Xander's." Spike put his hand on Xander's thigh. "You remember the vampire? One you and Buffy were commenting on?"

"Commenting on?" Willow asked, but the look in Buffy's eyes told her that might have been a question she shouldn't have asked.

"Shape of my arse," he got up, "this might remind you," he said turning, grinning at Xander's appalled look. "Did a good job of it luv. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

"You... you're... and you heard..."

Seeing her friend's face match the color of her hair, Buffy jumped in. "For the record, we were just giving you an artistic critique..." Which was why her gaze was lingering on that perfect ass, until the man sat down again and she blinked, "and for another... I think someone's gotta do some more explaining. Xander? Statue?"

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. Xander stuttered out his explanation about the spell, was chided, but Spike somehow kept smoothing things over until they were all laughing and drinking. Xander wasn't sure he liked all the sexual innuendos floating around in the conversation, but Spike seemed to have that effect on others. He made a note to be sure that the girls each had dates the next time he and Spike came around. Then the word orgy passed through his irrepressible boyfriend's lips, and he changed his mind just like that.

"You're drunk," Spike said as Xander all but pushed him out the door near midnight.

"Am not."

”And horny."


"Really?" Spiked chuckled and put his hand over Xander's zipper, cupping his erection hard. "If this is you not horny, I might be in a bit of trouble..."

The combination of sudden heat rushing through his system and the outrageous words had Xander coughing and hanging onto Spike. Touching him like this, when they were alone, was a mistake. His scent drew him closer, the muscle's rippling under his palms made him think of what it felt like being on top of Spike, of feeling him push back... respond to his every touch in a way he'd only thought possible in dreams. "Okay... maybe a bit horny," Xander croaked, wondering how they were going to make it home. "Hurry."

"Right. Hurrying." The distinct sound of Xander's zipper being pulled broke the silence on the street.

"What?! No... I didn't mean... ahhh," he sagged weakly against Spike and involuntarily started to arch into the fist that closed around his cock.

"Didn't mean what luv? Want me to stop?" Spike stroked him one more time, then held his hand still around Xander's pulsing erection.


"No? Is that a question or an answer?"

"I mean NO! Which means 'yes' and... and you know what I mean," a slightly panicked sound burst out of Xander's throat. "Oh God... need to..."

"Find a nice strong wall," Spike.

"G...get home," Xander tried to correct, but guh, the things Spike was doing to him as he walked him backwards toward the side of a random house.... he couldn't fight it, the need to thrust into Spike's hand, the need to be kissed by him. And almost as if his scandalous creation read his mind, the blond closed the distance between them and they were mouth to mouth.

Xander found himself helplessly writhing. There was no room for thoughts... nothing. All he knew was that Spike's tongue was weaving in and out of his mouth, caressing, touching, making him crazy... how was that possible. And then Spike broke the kiss. "No... Spike."

Two hands on Xander's chest, Spike pushed him against the wall and started to kiss down his chest, over his clothes. The low moan told him he was heading in the right direction.

Xander's mouth went dry. "We really shouldn't... not here... ohhh!" The instant the blond's mouth latched around his aching cock, he clapped his hand behind Spike's head. "Tha...that's 'shouldn't' as in 'hurry.'" What was he thinking? As if Spike did anything in a hurry, especially on request!

Every lick, every suck... every humm was calculated to torture him into a state of uncontrollable lust. Xander found himself pushing Spike's head close, harder and hard, demanding he quench the fires that were burning out of control. "Please... pl... Spike, oh fuck..." He was thrusting and begging, needing so badly to come, "oh God... Spike."

His lover cupped his balls and started to move his mouth faster, until Xander was a wreck. The sounds that broke out of him were growing alarmingly louder, and there was nothing he could do about it. "Please..."

And then Spike pulled off, stood up and worked him with his hand again, kissing him hard and swallowing Xander's last cries as he came. "Good idea, yeah?"

Once Xander came back to himself, he hit Spike. "Bad... bad idea. We don't just fuck in the streets..."

"We don't?" Spike raised an eyebrow at Xander's obvious state of undress. The zipper went up, the button of his pants was fastened, and yet he still looked thoroughly fucked.

"No... we don't.... don't you dare," he said, freaking out as he saw Spike was about to accept the challenge and start all over. He darted away, still breathing hard, a warm feeling still flushing through his body. And he wasn't a bit surprised when Spike came up behind him and gave him a taste of how hard he was... rubbing his erection against Xander's backside. "Home... now."

"You sure? That's a nice tree there..."


Part Eight

[Four years later]

They made desperate love, all night long. Through tears and kisses, and promises and proclamations, Xander said 'goodbye.' Again.

When the morning light entered his room, Spike was gone, and he was alone. Turned out the spell had a fucking twist. He had his Spike... the man of his dreams... for exactly thirty days a year, and then he would be gone... Xander would find his statue back in the studio... and that was it.

It took him months to get used to being alone again. His calendar was based around the time Spike would return, and he marked the days off until that time. For him, the thirty days with Spike was his "weekend." There was no TGIF, it was thank God eleven months passed... and his lover was back.

It was hard, so fucking hard. And sometimes he thought he couldn't handle it anymore. And other times, he knew he'd fallen so fucking hard for his creation that even a measly thirty days a year was better than nothing.


"Xander, the guy is cute, you should go for it," Buffy said, with Willow nodding in agreement.

"Guys, you know it's not happening, right?" Xander lifted a statue and placed it onto a pedestal for his upcoming art exhibition. The girls had come to the art gallery sponsoring his work, and they were supposed to be helping him instead of giving him the now familiar lecture.

"Look, we love Spike, he's..." Buffy searched for words.

"Something special," Willow filled in. "You know, out of this world special."

"... BUT that doesn't mean it makes sense for you to waste your life just waiting for him. Xan, you can go out with others, you know? Maybe find someone..."

He flashed an angry look at Buffy. "I've found someone. I don't need--"

"Yeah you do. You're living in a holding pattern. We're just worried," she firmly replied.

"Yeah well, don't be." Tense, Xander strode into the other room to get more statues. His mind was so filled with Spike, he couldn't even think of being with another guy or woman.


On his way home, Xander heard the sounds of sirens but pretty much ignored them. His exhibition last month had been a tremendous success and he was now well established as a sought after artist with too much work. Deep in thought about his next creation, it wasn't until he was pulling up to his studio and house that he realized all the fire engines were in front of his place.

"Fuck!" His heart leaped to his throat. There was only one thing he was thinking about... Spike. Oh God... Spike.

He scrambled past the police and Firemen, after telling them he lived there. The sky overhead was gray with smoke, but the fire was out. Please God... It was the studio, not the house. No!

Buffy was there, she came and gave him a hug. She had black stuff all over her, and he saw some of his work that had been rescued. "You?"

She nodded.

Hope flashed in his heart, she'd saved his stuff... saved Spike. But then something flashed in her eyes. Guilt. "Buff?"

She shook her head no.

"But..." Hang on...she should have known, would have known he'd want her to save the Spike statue first. Understanding dawned. His eyes grew hard, "You..."

"It was time to let go," she said, avoiding his right cross. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry... how could you." A muscle pulsed in the side of his jaw. "Get out. I never want to see you again."

"I know. It's how I felt when you didn't tell me Willow figured out Jenny's curse, when it could have helped Angel. I understand now... sometimes you gotta make the hard calls, when your friends can't." Her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Get out, get out, get the fuck out..." he shoved her away and dropped to his knees. He barely heard her I love you Xander as the tears started to flow. No piece of wood was the same as the next. No amount of trying to recarve Spike would bring him back. He was alone again, and now... all those years really were for nothing.


[Four months later]

He'd opened up his own art gallery, and taken the apartment upstairs. This was after he'd jogged for two and a half months straight. He'd run from his life, from his friends, and from the ashes of his studio. He'd run from the pain of his loss, only to find that pain resided inside him, and there was no way to outrun it.

His apartment was now teaming with people who'd come for his house warming party. They were glitzy and artsy and they liked to drink and eat little tiny h'oerderves, and they loved him...adored his work and paid through the nose for it. He left them behind and walked into his bedroom to look out the window down at the street. He wasn't that good with people, this sort of people... he wasn't a schmoozer. Nah, it wasn't that. It was that he was still sick in the heart, and he didn't know when he'd get better.

The door opened, and Xander turned to find a Frenchmen... what was his name... oh yeah, Antoine, come in.

"Ah, there you are my friend. Your place is lovely," Antoine said, "I particularly like the vaulted ceilings and the minimalism. And your champagne."

Xander laughed. "Glad to hear it. Music isn't so bad either, is it?"

"Non. It is beautiful. Speaking of beautiful, there was a beautiful man out there looking for you." He waggled his brows. "Are you..."

"No... no I'm not."

"Then you won't mind if I make passionate love to him all night?"

"Knock yourself out." Letting out a deep breath, Xander waited until he was alone again, then put his hands on the window ledge, leaned out and gulped the fresh air. There was only one beautiful man on his mind, and he was gone. It was hard to believe, that he'd never see that irrepressible smile, the mischievous looks, the...

Feeling the warmth of a body directly behind him, he stilled. God, was he so far gone that he was closing his eyes and pretending the stranger plastering himself against his backside and slipping his arm around his waist was Spike? He hadn't touched another man, not once, not once since they'd gotten together. He would shove this one off in a moment, he would.

And then he felt a warm mouth slide up the side of his throat, just the way Spike would do it... right before he made an outrageous suggestion in his ear.

The man's hand slid over Xander's waistband and took hold of his zipper. Xander's heart was banging against his chest. Before he spoke, a warm breath caressed his ear. "Think the neighbors would mind if I had you moaning into the street?" He was pulled hard against the man's body, and who could ignore a raging hard on like that... like Spike's? "I've missed you."

Xander's head whipped around. "Spike... Spi... Spi..."

"Right, still get to you, then? That's good." The sound of Xander's zipper being pulled down announced Spike's intentions.

"No. S--"

"No means yes? Or I don't get to you anymore?" Spike brushed his hand over Xander's arousal, and chuckled against his throat.

Turning fully, Xander's heart sang with elation. It was Spike... it was his beautiful ... beautiful man, still sexy as hell and in sinfully tight jeans and a blue shirt that was so tight it left nothing to the imagination. "H... how?"

"Right here, against the window." Spike put his arms around Xander and dragged him close.

"No, I mean..." And then Spike slanted his mouth over Xander's and all thoughts fled Xander's mind. For one crazy moment, he really thought he was losing it, that this was just a daydream, a fantasy, or that he needed to go to the looney farm. A few minutes into the kiss, and he knew it was real. No one could slide his tongue in and out of his mouth like that, and with just a few small movements, make him feel like he was being fucked senseless. No one else's hands roamed, and lingered over all the right places on his body, or made heat flush through his system like this. No one could have him thrusting and straining to get closer in the middle of a house party with his door open... no one but Spike.

He broke the kiss. "Spike... oh God... I thought I lost you. I need you so much."

Spike smirked and inserted his knee between Xander's thighs. "I know. Here now." Then he saw the tears and kissed them away, ever so slowly. "Not leaving. Not ever. Not unless you toss me out, yeah?"

"Not ever... we have more than thirty days... how, Spike!" he was frustrated by the fact his lover was insisting on driving his body crazy with need while he was trying to talk.

The sound of another Zipper was almost Xander's undoing. "Spike! Listen to me. I don't want to make love, I want--"

The door swung open. "Ah, you found him," Antoine gave them a knowing look. "But Xander, you told me you didn't want him, you naughty boy. You did say I could have him, non?"

Spike pulled away. "You said he could have me?"


Spike frowned.

"No, really..." Xander started.

"But you don't want to make love with me?" Spike asked, quoting him.

"I'll make love to you if he won't." Antoine openly leered. "Where did you find him Xander, he's absolutely breath taking."

"And if you don't get your ass out of my room, it's going to be the last breath you take." Xander stalked over to the Frenchman, literally shoved him out the door and locked it behind him. When he turned, he felt Spike's heated gaze directed as his groin. Making a face, Xander zipped up. He expected Spike to do the same. Instead, the blond sat on the window sill, legs apart, a heated invitation in his eyes.

Xander licked his lips. "Stop that."

"What's that, luv?" Spike leaned back, allowing a sliver of skin above his waistband to show.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Spike's gaze fell from Xander's eyes to his groin.

"Or like that!" When Spike looked back up and shifted his hand down to hook his thumb into his waistband, Xander was ready to melt. "And stop being sexy."

This time the blond raised his eyebrow. "Don't blame me for that, you're the bloody artist."

Xander almost choked when Spike, for no apparent reason, lifted his hips and then sat back down. He closed his eyes against the tempting sight. "Listen, this is happening too fast. I... I want to know what happened. I thought I lost you."

"But you're glad to have me back."

"Oh God yes."

"Then why won't you look at me."

Xander immediately opened his eyes to see that precious pout. "Because I can't think when you're... you're..." he waved his arms around.

"Being me?"

"Right. Wrong... okay, that's beside the point." He was getting desperate, and it showed.

"Turns out that most people who use the spell? Well, they don't hang onto their statues or manequins, paintings ... or whatever they put the spell on. It's too hard seeing someone you love only once a year. They can't wait for their lovers, so they screw around... and then the image of their lover, it makes them feel guilty, so they throw it away. That signifies the spell caster has broken free of the spell... the love he or she feels for his art, and it sets the art free. Sometimes they get together, other times not."

Xander felt the heat in the laser blue gaze trained on him. "You mean if I'd thrown you away earlier..."

Spike nodded.

"Well why didn't you tell me?" There was real anguish in Xander's tone.

"I didn't know, luv. All I knew is that I was made for you, that I couldn't wait to be with you. It was hard for me too, especially seeing you sad and lonely and not being able to do a bloody thing about it." He slapped both hands on his thighs and moved them up and down. "Those days are over now. I'm still made for you Xander. Still want you to want me so bad, you can't think."

Xander's gaze was glued on Spike's hands. All he could think of was those hands moving on his own body. If any more blood was directed to his groin, he was going to be front-heavy and fall over. Unable to restrain himself a minute longer, he ran to Spike and leaned down, putting his arms around him and bringing his mouth over his lover’s.

With every kiss, every slide of tongue against tongue, Xander forgot some of his pain. Spike's hands were on his sides, moving down over his ass, sending waves of heat through his system until he didn't know whether he was coming or going. "I do... want you so bad I can't think. Want you so bad---"

There was a pounding on the door.

"So bad you're going to ignore that," Spike got up and pushed Xander's pants down to his thighs.

"No, I gotta..."

Dropping to his knees, Spike licked Xander's belly, and then gave him open mouthed kisses as he trailed down toward his very aroused cock.

"Spike... oh God... the door..." And then Spike's mouth was around him and all the pounding in the world couldn't bring Xander back. He couldn't close his eyes, even though he wanted to. He needed much more to see that Spike was right there, that it was love shining from his eyes, and that he wasn't going to disappear. His muscles tightened as Spike worked him with his hands and his mouth, bringing him close to the edge. "Get up... Spike get up," he pulled desperately on his lover.

The instant Spike was up, Xander turned him around and pressed him against the window ledge. "About that moaning into the street... not too loud okay?" Then he was desperately pulling his sexy lover's pants down and preparing him. All the while, Spike was egging him on, with words and pleas, and by pushing back against him.

Xander pressed his arousal against Spike's hole, and grasped Spike's cock with one hand. Once he had Spike groaning and thrashing, he pushed inside him. God.... God he'd missed this, Spike so hot and tight around him, his voice so sexy as he urged him on. The raw, intensity of the sensations rocking his body had him panting with need and desire. "Love you Spike, love you more than anything."

Spike turned and put one arm Xander's head, kissing him as hard as he was getting fucked. "Me too, luv."

"Do anything for you, anything," Xander muttered, starting to see flashes of white behind his eyelids.


"Oh yeah..." Somehow, a little of Xander's ability to think remained. "Wait... NO!"

"Right, I'll tell you what I want..."

As Xander exploded deep inside his lover, bringing him over the edge as well, he didn't protest. Not his future which would likely be filled with embarrassing requests and all sorts of situations Spike could get him into. Not the too-loud moaning that had echoed in the streets below. And not the hands that were now exploring him even more thoroughly as the pounding on the door increased in intensity, and he heard Buffy and Willow's voices among the many. Xander had everything he wanted and needed, right here... right now. That was what mattered.

The End

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