The Beginning of the End


1 Adventures In The Cemetery

They came together one more time after that …. one more time before Xander called it to a halt. There was no more bucket list for Xander, with Spike as a teacher, his boy was thinking, that list could be endless. So far, in Xander’s head, the list looked like this:

Kissing: Yes
Heavy Petting: Yes
I make him come: Yes
He makes me come: Yes
He goes down on me, swallowing: Yes
I go down on him, swallowing: Well no swallowing allowed, but I could be waiting on that one until long after the world ends.
Me inside Him: Yes
Him inside Me: Oh HELL yes.

Were they done, then? They had done all the basics, but was there more to it than that? His long experience with Anya had proved that the basic insert-tab-A-into-slot-B pretty much covered it, once you had done the basics you had done it all, and all that was left was to do it all over again. Somehow Xander sensed that Spike had a lot more artistic attitude on such things ….a more innovative approach, perhaps? Maybe an appreciation of the art of lovemaking that was more …inventive? Without any more experience than their short time together, with instinct that could only come from the bloodclaim, Xander was sure this was the case. And if he allowed Spike to make the list FOR him, well, they would be here forever.

But he didn’t have forever, that much was certain.

So maybe one more time – maybe one more thing. Spike had promised something two nights ago. When he gave up being embarrassed by his ignorance and stupid questions (Spike, after all, didn’t seem to mind) he had been savoring those words for a while now.

“I could have been gentle,” “I could have showed you all kinds of things.

There had to be, after all, some middle-ground between the gentle way Spike had touched him the first time and the dirty things he had demanded last time. More importantly, now that Xander had said out loud, excuse me, DEMANDED out loud, and loudly, the most extreme request he had treasured in the most hidden secret recesses of his mind, well, surely asking for anything else now would be easy.

“Spike’ll show you things. Spike’ll show you lots of nice things.”

Oh Lordy how he enjoyed it when his Vampire made promises. And spoke of himself in the third person. He enjoyed both.

So with a six-pack of longnecks and a good excuse to be gone for the night, Xander made his way trippingly through the cemetery in his new billowing black coat with a whole new list of requests and a song in his heart.

But Sunnydale (as Xander so often discovered) had other plans.

In the whole time they had been together, Xander hadn’t come to fisticuffs, hadn’t engaged in ANY act of violence, even refused to argue with Anya, even refused to break up a fight between his own boys at work for fear of receiving a blow. When the end of the world came, he’d be ready, of course, but until then he was Mr. Pacifist. He couldn’t feel too guilty about it – Buffy was so jonesing to beat up *anything* she appreciated the extra work (not that there was much, the demon and vamp population seemed to be dwindling, as the rat population often dwindled in a sinking ship.)

So why was there a fyarl demon following two drunk frat boys into his cemetery at night, interfering with his much-more-pleasant plans?

To his credit, while Xander certainly considered abandoning the frat boys to their fates, it was only momentarily. Then he was over the stone fence (six pack still in one hand) and, assessing the situation quickly, jumped onto the nearest crypt top, took a deep breath and did the most logical thing – he called for Spike.

“Spike Spike Spike Spike Spike Spike Spike Spike Spike SPIKE!” he hollered to the amazement of fyarl and human alike. Then he rocked back on his heals and grinned at the potential hazardous situation below, knowing the Big Bad was on the way.

But not fast enough, sadly. The fyarl recovered from his shock and was lunging for Frat Boy 1 — in a flash Xander leaped down from the crypt and tackled the prey, leaving the predator pouncing on air and crashing to the ground. Frat Boy 2, no shrinking violet, appeared with a formidable weapon – a small upright headstone, which he logically smashed across the head of the big, ugly monster. He then abandoned all logic and attacked Xander, wildly throwing punches until he was picked up and thrown aside the recovering demon. His fratbrother stood and looked at both Xander and fyarl for a moment, attempting, apparently, to decide who the enemy was. He picked the shorter of the two, and attacked Xander.

Xander took part of a blow to the chin, dodging it for the most part, using the heavy man’s momentum to trip himself up, sending him to land on the ground in an old Watcher-training move. For a moment Xander and the fyarl looked at the floundering human on the ground between them, laying the dirt swearing and cursing and assuring the two that they were both faggots and queers. It was so absurd that the fyarl actually *looked* at Xander for an explanation (Xander provided him with a shrug) and was thus unprepared when Spike appeared on the scene with a roar.

Spike flew at the demon like a missile – knocking him off his feet and actually carrying a few feet before they hit the ground where the Vampire began furious pounding the fyarl in the head. Xander barely had time to notice, Frat Boy 2 was up and doing what he knew how to do, i.e. beat up his fellow man. He landed a single punch with full force (Xander was distracted by watching the violent Vampire) which filled Xander’s mouth with the taste of blood. “Spike will want to kiss me now,” was the inappropriate thought filling Xander’s head as he turned to deal with the human situation as quickly as possible ---–

-- because the faster this fight was over, the faster he could get with Spike.

It wasn’t avoiding the blows or landing some himself or shouted explanations that got the attention of the confused victims, strangely enough, it was the broken beer bottles. The fyarl threw off Spike and fled, with Spike (full gameface and snarling) right behind him. Xander stopped to mark the direction they had gone. Then, taking a glancing blow to the cheek and getting in a brilliant uppercut, Xander managed to pull/shove Frat Boy 1 behind him, resulting in said flailing and falling to the ground, landing on Xander’s earlier purchase. In the split-second of silence the three men heard the glass break.

“Dude, my longnecks!” Xander shouted and “Oh god sorry dude, sorry!” Frat Boy 1 shouted back automatically.

“I had plans for those, man!” Xander said, calmer. The seasoned fighter, he adjusted to the situation quickly, namely, that the only threat had gone and it was just him and the two victims, now.

“Look, what the hell you are hitting me for, dude, I was trying to help you! Look what you did to my 6-pack, man, that was a present!” He was loud, but he was calm, assertive, keeping his distance from the other men and using his voice to reassure them that beer bottles broken while fighting a fyarl demon was the biggest worry of the moment.

“Yeah, what are you doin’ Steve, he was on our side!” piped up the second Frat, calming down ‘Steve’ immediately. “Hell, sorry dude.” he said, looking at the broken beers. “Here’s some still good. Come by our house, I’ll pay for ‘em.”

“No, I’m fine, just……just stop cutting through cemeteries, dude! What are you, freshmen?? Don’t they teach you basic survival skills at SU anymore?”

‘Steve’ and his bro (apparently named ‘Adam’) apologized and left sheepishly. Xander gathered up the 3 surviving longnecks and waved to them cheerfully, impatiently, wanting, (no, NEEDING) to find his Vampire. As soon as they were obviously on their way he turned back to the direction he had last seen the two monsters head and set out at a dead run.

He was hoping for an obvious trail of toppled headstones, but there was none. He pulled himself up short, not wanting to lose any time by going in the wrong way, and looked about in the darkness desperately. He started to call out then bit down hard…...if Spike was still fighting he didn’t need to stop to worry about Xander who wasn’t in any danger.

“Stop, donut boy, listen. Listen to your blood. Listen for your Vampire,” the still, calm part of his brain told him, and he listened. Standing completely in the lightless cemetery he forced himself to breath deeply and listen.

“Ok, blood, talk to me. Where is Spike?”

What his blood told him was so obvious he felt a little stupid for asking. As clear as day (well as clear as a night that he could see in) he saw the fyarl demon running for his life, but making the unfortunate choice of running towards, of course, Spike’s own crypt. Spike was in front of his own house now, pummeling the poor creature into the ground, hell, Xander could even hear it from here. The creature was nearly dead, but still Spike kept coming, Xander could feel his knuckles burning from where Spike was damaging himself in his unrelenting assault. But as to the outcome of the fight there was no guessing – the only question was how much skin Spike would have on his hands when he finally realized the thing was dead.

Holding the three beers Xander walked, unhurried, toward the crypt, stopping to open one and drink.

He found Spike exactly as he knew he would find him, on his hands and knees, looking down at what used to be a demon, was now mostly a puddle. “Good work, killer." Xander called as soon as he was within calling distance.

Spike didn't respond, or even move, but Xander knew he wasn’t hurt. He continued to approach the triumphant Vampire with a casual swagger (belying the panic he had felt moments before.) “Typical monster fight in Sunnydale,” he said as he drew closer, “The loser does NOT buy the drinks.”

Spike stood, eyes closed. He did not look at Xander. He turned away.

“Bollocks. Guess that’sit, then.” he heard Spike growl, voice filled with disgust. Xander looked down at what was left of the fyarl demon and agreed with the disgusting part.

“A toast!” said Xander, handing a longneck to Spike, “To the best monster, who won.”

Spike reached out to take the beer, still not looking Xander in the face. His shoulders were stooped, looking utterly defeated. Xander took a few steps toward the massacre on the ground and studied it with amazement.

Spike took the bottle cap off, tossed it aside, and drank half the bottle before stopping. With Xander's back turned toward him he looked that way, only then noticing the boy held two bottles in one hand. When Xander turned around he looked away again. “Someone joining us?” he said, indicating the extra bottle.

“I *had* a nice even-numbered six pack, but HE made me drop it, the bastard….. ex-bastard….” Xander nodded disconcertedly at the demon pulp on the ground beside him. “What do you have against fyarl demons?”

“It wanted to hit you,” Spike muttered, glaring at nothing, taking another mouthful of the warm beer. The next thing he knew he had a mouth full of Xander.

He started and dropped the bottle, his whole body tensed as if for a blow, as if the hand behind his head and the head bending down to claim his mouth was the last thing he expected.

Because he didn’t lean into Xander’s embrace Xander stepped into his, forcing Spike to take a step back even as their bodies pressed together. Only then did Spike reach out for him, hands on his arms, not touching so much as clutching for balance.

Not wondering about Spike’s pliancy but rather enjoying the ability to be aggressive, Xander pushed into the kiss forcefully, then broke it off suddenly, taking the shorter man’s chin in his hands, straightening his head for a moment to look down at his Vampire’s face. “My two favorite flavors, beer and Spike.” Then he bent his head again to force his tongue inside his lover’s mouth in a demanding kiss. Hearing the moan against his lips made him bolder, and he reached his free hand beneath the leather coat and grabbed a handful of Spike-ass, pulling the yielding body closer to him. (The other hand hung casually at his side, holding the two longnecks. See how cool and smooth and James-Bond I am, one hand casually holding my beers, one hand forcefully groping my awesome Vampire boy-friend?)

The kiss ended with both men breathless, Xander wearing a shit-eating grin on his face, Spike still looking astonished.

“Let’s get inside, before more demons come and piss you off.” Forcefully he turned the compliant body around and, pushing him by the shoulder (and how much was he loving this?) guided his lover towards their crypt.

2 Adventures Above Ground

Inside Xander put down the beers, shed his coat and found a clean place to put it before he registered the Vampire’s bewildered look.

“What?” he asked, stepping back into his lover’s personal space, grinning at parted lips, lips he intended to be sucking on in a matter of moments, lips that seemed to be having trouble forming words.

“What….what…..” the Vampire swallowed. “What do you want from me?” Xander’s grin spread (stifle that, stifle that, James Bond doesn’t grin) as he forcefully placed his hands on Spike’s narrow hips and jerked them towards him. Grinding the slender frame against his growing erection, he lowered his head to speak against the trembling lips with a growl, “What do I want? What do I want? I want to bend you over the nearest headstone and fuck you blind.”

He was rewarded with a pained groan as the passive body came to life, his grip lost on the lean frame as his arms (and his mouth) were suddenly full of Spike. Two hands on his shoulders allowed the shorter man to push himself up, trying to become even with his lover, while all the while Xander’s hands wildly traveled, trying to clutch, caress, control. It was much like the first kiss they had shared in the underground crypt, only that time Spike had leaned back in the end, letting Xander begin and end the contact. This time it was more like a wrestling match, all grabbing and pulling and devouring, so much so that Xander was not all at surprised to feel his heart rate accelerate, his senses tingle just as if he were still in the fight. Nor did it surprise him at all to find that, when the kiss ended, he was laying flat on his back with the Vampire on top of him, violently attempting to divest him of his pants.

Teeth on his sides, his stomach, and lower, sometimes human, sometimes not. Xander fought Spike taking off his belt, just for the pleasure of the fight, but when the belt was gone he felt an undeniable thrill when Spike yanked open his jeans, ripping them clear to the leg. The chill of the night air on his newly-released cock, the shock of the violent action and the beautiful sensation of the cool mouth swallowing him up made his heart skip a beat, and Xander gasped for air for several seconds before he could find his voice (for all the good it did, since the only thing his voice could manage was “Spike!”)

Thinking himself chastised, his Vampire released him long enough to gasp “Bought those for you,” pointing with his head to two boxes on the stone table, new department store boxes tied up in strings. “You got me a present?” Xander managed, clearly pleased. “You bought me a present?” The Vampire, his mouth full, only shrugged. Then he DID come up long enough to say “Change of clothes.” Then it was back to business.

Xander arched and moaned and did all the appropriate things one does when receiving a truly spectacular blowjob, but there was something else he wanted more than this, and all his successes within the past hour (his face still bloody, his wind still up, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins) Xander decided to Put His Foot Down.

Well, in this case Put His Food Down really meant Take His Cock Out Of His Lover’s Mouth, but it came down to the same thing.

Slipping out from underneath an amorous predator urgently trying to suck you off is certainly a Herculean effort, but tonight, Xander was a Greek hero.

“NO! NOT this time, not without payback.” He said in his new Take Charge voice, surprising the stronger man into releasing him long enough to get into a sitting position. Ignoring the moans of frustration (and straight up pain) Xander took the blonde head in both hands and forced the Spike to look him in the face. “Not unless I get mine, too.”

“I’m TRYING to give you yours, pet.’ Spike was begging, pleading, but Xander was prepared for that. Steeling himself against the pain clearly visible in his lover’s eyes, he remained adamant.

“Please love, please…..” his Vampire was panting now, and Xander had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment in order to keep his resolve … .telling his lover “no” was hard as hell. Denying his lover, hell, his LOVE one of the things he wanted the most might be downright impossible. ”Stay strong, donut boy,” he told himself as the grown man whose head was in his lap began to whimper. “Use it to your advantage.

Then, a memory of the long, tall drink of water that he been in the cemetery just a few minutes before now, the slick, suave gentleman who had clutched the Vampire’s ass in one hand while casually holding his beers with the other, THAT memory took hold and Xander took the advantage.

“You want to taste me, don’t you?” he whispered in what (he hoped) was a seductive voice, laying his lips on the hair of the man whose head he held, the man who was trembling. “You want to drink me down, drink my come, it’s power to you, isn’t it? More than my blood, I think, it makes you feel strong, it makes you feel alive.”

He seemed to be getting it right, either the voice right or the facts straight. Either way, his lover was actually *whimpering,* licking and kissing wherever he could reach, pulling at the fingers capturing his head.

“I want to give it to you, Spike. I want to give it to you. I want to come in your mouth and I want to feel you swallowing me. Don’t you want that too?”

“Yes” came the pained moan.

“Then give me what I want.” Xander demanded, surprised by the power in his own voice, delighted by the way his lover started in his hands. “You can have this now if you promise me I get to do the same to you. Tit for tat, mate, my turn. I get to suck you dry, I get to swallow you, and I don’t have to hear any bullshit about ‘never getting rid of me.’ Do we have a deal?”

Spike’s hands were digging into his legs, and Xander could feel the tension in the rigid body. But now the eyes were closed, and when they opened, they were NOT filled with the “I want you so bad it hurts” look. It was more like the “I’m stronger than you, I might just hold you down and suck you off without your consent” look.

Xander spoke quickly. “Oh for GOD’S SAKE Spike, I’m not asking to watch you do come, I just want to taste it. I’ll close my eyes, I swear!!”

Fine,” came back the growl and Xander found himself suddenly (but not surprisingly) jerked onto his back, with two strong hands holding his ass completely off the ground and an undeniable mouth completely devouring him to the root, a cold nose buried in the tangle of his pubic hair, poking into his skin. Wordlessly he fought for air as his Vampire sucked him off ferociously, realizing (as his lover most certainly must realize) that, in truth, he had no control here other than what Spike gave him, realizing that, as long as the Vampire didn’t hurt him enough to engage the chip, he was completely beholden to the other man’s generosity and self-control.

“You promised, don’t forget, you promised…..” Xander was trying to say, as if he could really hold out much longer, as if the word “Fine” was really a legally binding contract. It vaguely occurred to him he should NOT come right this second, to not explode instantly and helplessly right away and thus expose his complete weakness to the Vampire right after his little victory. He vaguely wondered if he should be thinking about dead puppies or road kill or….oh who the fuck was he kidding? There was nothing in the entire universe but William the Bloody’s amazing mouth sucking his cock and Xander came there with all the subtly and control of Mouth Vesuvius.

He was given no time to recover. The pissed-off Vampire picked his body up with little care and carried him to the dumpster-diver chair, where he plopped himself down and dropped Xander into a kneeling position in front of him, all while Xander was still trying to recover the ability to talk, or to even move. He wasted no time, however, as the Vampire stripped off his pants, wanting to show no hesitation now that he was (maybe) being offered what he had been longing for for some time. Taking no time to savor the tingling sensation spreading out from his torso that reached all the way to his fingers from his powerful orgasm Xander shimmied out of his torn pants, pulled his lover closer to the edge of the chair by the crooks of his legs, and covered as much as bare cock as he could in one gulp.

The days of hesitancy, false starts and trepidation were gone (remember those days? they were just last week) and Xander swelled with pride at hearing the older man gasp and arch in surprise at the sudden and daring attack. Finding his lover in an almost flaccid state made it all the better, as the giving organ fit entirely into his mouth with ease, and he chuckled at the whispered swear words (even blasphemies!) that resulted as his tongue willingly bathed every inch of private, tender flesh. His mouth became full immediately, of course, and he quickly adjusted. Using his fingers and hands the way he had been (so carefully and tenderly) taught, Xander angled himself where his head could get the most movement, firmly curling three fingers at the base of the pale cock and making them an extension of his mouth, then set to bobbing with a will.

“Oi, pet, I should piss you off more often,” Spike wondered out loud, but Xander couldn’t smile without ceasing his ministrations. With his other hand he reached under his chin to touch and caress and tease Spike’s thighs and everything else he found there. Again he glowed with pride with the moans and even whimpers rewarding each successful trick – all taught to him by a master.

Now Spike’s hands were on his head (but not actually holding him -- caressing, barely touching, he always seemed reluctant to hold Xander’s head the way Xander held his) and the familiar sounds made Xander’s heart race. Spike was close and Xander’s body was tensing up as if for a blow, tensing up, in fact, for the moment when he’d be violently picked up and turned over to be held down while Spike jacked off, held forcefully in a position where he could see nothing. “Keep your promise, keep your promise” Xander chanted in his head, expressed with every stroke, every touch. Now Spike had pulled the cushion out from behind him and was holding it over his face with both arms, looking ridiculous. Xander continued, concentrating on a constant rhythm.

Spike was close, Xander could feel it. He snaked one arm under the rigid thigh, trying to hold tight in case his Vampire tried to bolt. Although the pillow over the face was promising, he still had one leg up, foot braced. If Spike made a grab for him he might be able to get away (for all the good it would do him) and demand Spike keep his promise. And it would be any second now, if Xander’s ears weren’t lying. Impossibly, painfully tense, Spike became silent and completely still, waiting…

and waiting…

and waiting….

Xander glanced up as his lover who was deathly still and frozen in place, wondering if it was possible for a Vampire to have had a heart attack and died. He was feeing a growing sensation in his jaw and wrist that he had never felt before….weariness. In all his other lessons he had never been worn out – Spike always responded so well and so quickly, and suddenly Xander wondered what he had gotten himself into.

He didn’t wonder long. With a strangled cry Spike bucked his hips forward, filling Xander’s mouth with cold, burning seed while Xander struggled to hold on. So many times he had been denied this he half expected to be blown away by the Vampire’s release, but he had no time to feel let down, as he was suddenly presented with the problem of a mouthful of something too precious to spill, but too difficult to swallow. With difficulty he kept his lips locked to the softening shaft, letting it drop from his mouth without loosing any of the strange burning liquid. He pulled away from Spike with a hand to his mouth, and closing his eyes in concentration, he swallowed.

The rush hit him so suddenly his head snapped back. He lost his balance and fell over backward onto the cold crypt floor, any words he spoke drowned out in the ocean roar of the visions filling up his brain, and he was fighting, he was fighting, he was fighting the fyral demon twice his size and three times his strength, but the creature never stood a chance. His strong arms and killer hands could not contain his overwhelming fury….the creature had ATTACKED XANDER, had brought the adrenaline of the fight, had brought the rain that would wash his boy clean of all desire for him.. Now his fists were aching as the demon face he was punching gave way to the ground….the flesh beaten into a literal pulp and yet he had to keep striking, keep striking….

Xander gasped and the cold air of the crypt filled up aching lungs that might have been still for some time. He was vaguely aware that his Vampire was sitting up on the edge of the chair, watching him closely, except there was no chair, no crypt, only Vampire. There was only Vampire, sand, and sky, and in the sky stood two objects, people who looked more like giant statues, people that made all other people on earth look as tiny and insignificant, not people, really. Gods. Only Spike, sand, and sky, and in the sky only two things, just as there was nothing in the sky but the sun and the moon, there was nothing but these two.

Buffy was the sun - huge, dominating, blinding, all-powerful. Capable of creating beauty, yes, in a calm sunrise or flashy, artistic sunset. But ultimately She was only what She Was, lifegiver to mortals, death to Vampires. She was
Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun, utterly and painfully destructive, no matter how much She was worshiped.

Xander as the moon – calmer, closer. Subtly and silently creating the tide, pulling the whole ocean in. Then letting it pull away, always patient and practical, knowing it would just come back again. He was lovely, loving, and to the nightwalker, the only Source of Light. He was neither burning nor painful, but He was cold. He was distant, and destined, in 28 days, to disappear all together. He was
Dei Cacciatori E Della Notte and He was leaving, no matter how much He was worshiped.

There was nothing in the whole world, and without them, there was nothing at all.

Xander woke as if from a dream, panting. Spike, strangely, was not holding or comforting him, but still sat on the edge of the bed, half naked, watching him warily. Xander sat up, aching, his body telling him that, for the third time tonight, he had been in a fight and would be sore in the morning. He put a hand to an aching head, and noticed the knuckles were bleeding. And still Spike stayed apart from him, watching.

“What did you see?” he asked, finally. ”That’s what he’s afraid of, that’s why he won’t touch you. He’s afraid of what you know now.” warned Xander’s head, and Xander’s mouth spoke the words very carefully.

“Nothing,” he began to lie. “I saw nothing except……me. I saw myself. There was nothing else there. Does that make sense?”

The Vampire snorted and looked away. “Of course you saw yourself, I haven’t had anything else to eat now, have I? What else did you want to see? Unless you expected some kind of vision of a buncha bloody cows….”

“Yeah, come to think of it, I think I noticed a butcher shop,” Xander tried to joke. Spike’s mood was hostile and confrontational, and not at all contusive to taking him below ground and showing him new things in bed.

But Spike didn’t laugh. “So, is that it? Are you done with your bucket list n…”

“Oh fuck off, will you forget about the fucking bucket list? I’m sorry I ever told you about it, oh wait, I DIDN’T tell you about it, you were sneaking peaks at my brain, which isn’t fair….”

“You got a good look at my brain too, and all you saw was yourself, and now you’ll get a big head and I’ll NEVER get rid of you…” Spike groused, at which Xander stood up and pulled the half-naked man up by his shirt until they stood face to face.

“Are you going to talk all night or are you going to take me downstairs and corrupt me some more?”

“Got nothing else to show you, sorry, I guess we’re done now” Spike said sarcastically, dismissively, but Xander shut him up by taking his face in both hands and filling up his mouth with a tongue. The shorter man responded to the kiss slowly, eventually letting his hands go to Xander’s sides, then becoming passionate, combing fingers through hair and pulling closer. Finally they parted, Xander panting, Spike grinning. “Well, maybe there’s a few more things I could show you…...

Xander as the Moon is described by a line from The Conjuration of Diana from the Gospel of Aradia. Yes, it refers to him as a Goddess, but work with me here. Of the whole of the conjuration I chose "Of the hunters and of the night" thinking in terms of the moon's relationship with Vampires and other nighthunters.

You know, it occurs to me that this story is FULL of little fun Witchcraft facts. And I haven't even gotten to the Anatomically Correct Candles yet. (That comes on their anniversary.)

3 Adventures Underground

Spike made him open both his presents, which contained two nice button-down shirts and 2 pairs of dress pants. He then insisted Xander try on and model both, belt, shoes and all, all the while he lay naked on his own bed and eyed Xander like a lion romancing a lamb, until finally Xander was fully dressed and hard as a rock. Finally, he refused to take any more “catwalk turns.” Instead he crawled slowly onto the bed, covering Spike’s body silently (the way he knew his Vampire liked it) then sat up, straddling the leaner man’s waist, and began slowly unbuttoning his new shirt, holding Spike’s gaze.

“You wanna fuck me, pet?” he was asking evilly, but Xander only shook his head silently, slowly removing his shirt. “Are you sure?” said a wicked grin, a wicked hand caressing the bulge growing in the crotch of the dress pants, but Xander batted the hand away.

“Do you want to feel me inside you again?” he murmured, and Xander nodded, unbuckling his belt and opening his fly, then lowering his body down to his lover, lip to lip, groin to groin.

“You’ll have to ask me then,” one mouth whispered, and the other mouth complied. “Fuck me again, Spike, I want to feel you inside me one more time before the world ends.” The Vampire growled and grinned and plunged both his hands under the dress pants, under the boxers, and began the massage that Xander knew had quite obvious intentions.

They moved together like that for a few moments, Spike laying flat on his back, kneading, grinning. Xander lay on top of him propped up on extended arms, arching his back in pleasure. Positioning his erection alongside Spike’s he began to rub back and forth, slowly, until he was very much in the exact position he would take to make love to a woman. Nor did he stop the parody while Spike questioned him closely.

“Tell me how you want it, Pet.”

“Ummmmmm I don’t know, I need you to tell me. You said we couldn’t do it last night, you said “day after tomorrow.” You sounded like you had something in mind….said you could show me 'things.' Remember?”

“Oh Spike can show you things, Spike can show you nice things..."

“GODS I love it when you refer to yourself in the third person!” Xander laughed, kissing his lover with a passion. Spike responded in kind, even giving up the preparatory massage to hold Xander’s head in both hands. Then he reached down to rid the boy of the troublesome pants & underwear, which, despite their newness, found themselves tossed in a pile on the floor along with the rest of the clothing. When was naked did Spike pull him back into the original position, kissing him thoroughly and then murmuring, “We can do it just like this, you know. I’ll be on top and I’ll lay you down sweet and gentle-like, 'nd whisper dirty words in your ear until you come.”

Xander stopped short of a mock-thrust. He looked down at the two sets of male dangly-bits in confusion. He looked back at wicked eyes.

“Show me.”

“Anything you want pet, all you have to do is ask.”

They moved and sat next to the side of the bed, and Spike reached for something from the assortment of somethings on the side table. Xander sat facing him, his back to the ornate headboard. He remembered a fantasy that went exactly like this, and it made him grin.

“I know what Pet wants, Pet wants a thorough rodgering. But you want to feel it this time, so none of this.”

“NO Lover-come-Lately,” Xander spoke up as Spike moved the alabaster box aside. “That made me dizzy and I think it gave me a hangover.”

“Oh, it did. It’s addictive too, but that’s not for Pet. This is for you.” Here he handed Xander a long, narrow object, about the size of a jewelry box for a bracelet he once bought Anya. It was an antique wooden box, the tiny hinges rusted, the latch missing. “Open it, love.” Xander smiled with the joy of receiving another present, his smile faltering a little when the lid of the box came off altogether, disappearing completely when he puzzled over the object inside.

On the frayed velvet lining lay a long light-grey object, about 5 inches long, maybe 1/2 inch across. One end came to a soft tip, the other ended in a ring. Some of the sides were slightly ridged, but one side was completely flat, making it look like an obscenely shaped domino, or a malformed piano key.

“’Problem is this soddin’ chip,” Spike was explaining, removing the mysterious object from the bottom part of the box and putting both bottom and top back on the table. “The chip is what’s slowing us down. Weren’t for it, I’d done you by now. Weren’t for that, I would’ve taken you the first time you asked, fucked you into the ground and made you beg for more.”

Here he grinned at Xander, still staring baffled at the object in his hand. Once again, he mistook the confusion for something else.

“I know you, Pet. You’re no nancyboy when it comes to pain…..roomed with you for a bit, didn’t I? Fought side by side, I know you’ll ignore a bit’o hurt if it’s between you and what you want. But this damn pieceawork,” here he tapped the back of his head, “Doesn’t know good pain from bad. That’s what littleman is for…”

He took the off-white object and tried to hand it to Xander, but Xander (with comprehension slowly dawning) put his hands by his sides.

“’Took me a while to find,” Spike was murmering gently now, holding Xander’s gaze. “None of that new plastic rubbish for you. This is the old fashioned kind, kind we used in my day. Illegal, now. Real ivory.” Here Spike reached for Xander, opening his closed fingers gently, and placed it in the palm of his boy’s hand. “A whole elephant died so you could have….”

Xander gave (rather, tossed) it back and backed away, both hands up, surrendering.

“No…not interested…wasn’t thinking….no.”

Spike caught the ivory dildo effortlessly as Xander tried his old trick of backing into the solid wall.

“Wot?” asked the baffled Vampire. “Is it about the elephant? I didn't kill it, love.”

“No, I’m just not interested, no.” Xander screwed his eyes shut, hiding, as always, from the insanity of the conversation and remembering, now, why he had given up on men after Larry’s death. Why did everything have to be so hard? How did anyone figure this one when everything was so damn scary?

But Xander was a 'brave lad' like Spike had said, and surely he had faced things scarier than this, so he opened is eyes in hope to make his Vampire (who looked neither angry or impatient, only confused) understand.

“Pet,” his Vampire was saying, looking baffled, “It’s tiny. ‘tsmaller than I am.”

“I don’t want an object inside me, I only want you.”

Spike put the object on the bed and leaned in, pulling Xander off of the headboard he was pressing against, trying to gather him up into comforting arms. “But don’t you see, love, this way I can be two places at once. I can be inside you and inside that amazing mouth at the same time…..”

“You know I like to do one thing at a time,” Xander told his Vampire pointedly, and Spike signed in acquiescence. It’s impossible to deny that (and hard to complain when) your lover refused to 69 or be in any other way distracted while pursuing his quest be learn how to give the perfect blowjob.

“Xander, listen.”

He stood up, pulled his boy to the edge of the bed and into an embrace, pressing the shaggy head against his chest. “You’re going to have to trust me.” He lifted Xander’s head up by the chin, coming the soft brown hair out of his face with splayed fingers. “Who taught you how to fight demon?”

“Buffy and Giles,” his brown-eyed boy replied, and Spike lost himself in those young, almost innocent eyes momentarily.

“And did they ever,” he said, regaining himself, “did they ever ask you to do something, or show you something, what didn’t make sense at first?”

Xander closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then smiled at the memory of those days long ago. It was in Buffy’s backyard and both of them were trying to convince him to fall without putting anything in front of him, not a hand, and defiantly not a knee. Over and over again he put his knee out, putting the force of the fall there, covering his kneecaps with bruises (which he didn’t mind) and his jeans with grass stains (which earned him a beating.) Then one day it just clicked and he was able to roll into the fall, and it all made sense. Then he knew he was doing it right because, instead of grass stains all over his knees he now had them on his back. This led to many rude jokes for a few days and even more successful lessons with Buffy.

“Pet?” Spike asked, breaking into Xander’s happy memories. Xander opened his eyes and grinned at Spike, debating telling him the grass-stained-knees story, then grinned even more when he realized how much that would turn his Vampire on.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess she did.”

Spike leaned over to touch Xander’s forehead with his. “’s just like that, Harris. I need you to trust me. If it weren’t for this soddin’ chip we’d be done by now – bloody thing doesn’t know good pain from bad. But I’ve thought it all through – we can do it good, we can do it nice ‘n gentle, but you have to trust me.”

Here he kissed his boy’s forehead and whispered into the tousled brown hair, “I’ll be good to you, pet, I’ll give you everything I never had. Trust Spike. Spike’ll treat you right.”

Xander moaned and rose suddenly, stopping the mouth from speaking the words that turned him on the most. He stopped it with his lips and his tongue, then whispered into it the words he now had courage for. “Tell me what to do.”

There was more kissing after that, more whispered endearments and 'my brave lad's. With his eyes closed (and his mouth full) Xander found the frightening object gently placed into his hand again, fingers lovingly closed around it. Then Spike pushed him back to the bed and began to explain The Plan.

“I’ll hold it, and you’ll push *back*, you see? It will all be you, love. You’ll be in control. That way if it hurts, it’s you doin’ it, not me."

"Oh yeah, ok. got it."

"Are you ready?”

Xander suddenly found himself unable to speak. Why? Oh yeah, air. “Nope, massage first,” he squeaked and quickly lay down in what he hopped was a “you are giving me a massage now” position (and not a ‘fuck me this way’ position.)

The move felt comical, but there was no laughter from behind him. Instead he felt the familiar hands on his body, gently kneading, supplying needed courage, relaxing him immediately.

Laying face down in his Vampire’s bed, feeling the exquisitely powerful, exquisitely talented hands knead and work the muscles of his ass and his upper thighs, confidently and knowingly touching secret and hidden places made Xander feel relaxed and open in more ways than one. Looking back at his lover from that position, it seemed obvious that he could say anything, hear anything, ask anything.

“So, when men are making love….oh god” Xander turned his head away suddenly. For Christsakes, WHEN would he get this right???

But Spike’s hand was stroking his head immediately, as if reading Xander’s mind, chasing down the self-recriminating thoughts, catching them up and discarding them as soon as they appeared. “Yes, pet? When we make love with each other, what?”

His voice can be so gentle, Xander thought. “He LIKES being the teacher, remember.” So he tried again.

“No, I mean……” Swallow, try again. “When you want me to be inside you, is it about the pain? Or is the pain, you called it 'good pain,' is that just one part of it?”

Spike grinned and stopped his ministrations. He inserted one long, pale finger into his mouth to wet it, then slipped it gently into Xander’s opening, turning it, crooking the finger just a bit, searching until….

Xander moaned and buried his face into the pillow, and Spike chuckled happily. He withdrew his finger and went back to the massage. “It’s all about that pet. 'sall about that beautiful sensation.

“Now, 'sabout the pain for some blokes, yeah. Birds too. Pain makes you wake up, makes your heart pound, makes you feel alive. Keeps you in the moment, makes it exciting. But for most the pain is just something to get around, just a necessary evil. Would work just fine without it…..just work to get past it to get to the good part.”

Then, in one sudden movement Spike had let go of his ass and was now laying that lovely, long body on top of his, groin to ass, breast to back, and he whispered in Xander’s ear, “I never want to hurt you, pet. Not unless you asked me too. Even without the chip, don’t forget. I never want to hurt you.”

Xander abruptly rose, pushing Spike off of him so suddenly his Vampire backed up in surprise. “I’m ready,” Xander explained as he turned over, holding the gaze, and his lover was visibly relived.

“Hands and knees, then.”

Xander froze. Every bit of confidence he had built up since he arrived in the cemetery, hell, since this whole escapade BEGAN suddenly melted away, leaving Xander silent and gaping.

Spike, for once, was clueless, using his hands to communicate and steer Xander into the position he wanted, apparently thinking the other man didn’t understand the direction. Numbly Xander allowed himself to be steered, until he found himself on all fours, facing the ornate headboard, facing the wall, his lover behind him, busily selecting something from the side table.

“Humiliating and possibly painful” was the only thought he could find in his head. “Possibly painful and without a doubt, humiliating.”

He was in a dog’s position. He had never taken this position in his life, never asked Anya to, who the hell would? Who the hell would want to? His face was on fire and he ordered himself to breathe deeply. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. This was part of the plan (and Spike had been planning this for a while) and all he had to do was stay still and keep breathing.

The man behind him suddenly became still, too, and, after a moment’s pause, put whatever he had in his hand back onto the table and put both hands on Xander’s waist. “Up.”

“What?” Xander asked, bewildered. Was he doing this wrong too?

“Changed m’mind. Up.” Now Spike was pulling him upright, until he was kneeling on the bed, his back straight. Then he was being moved up until his hands rested on the headboard, with Spike directly behind him. “Better?”

“Yes,” Xander breathed, relieved. Now a firm hand was on one side of his head, and Spike’s head was on the other. “You tell me when somethin’ doesn’t feel right, you tell me, yeah love?”

“I’ll try.”

“You WILL or the deal is off. I don’t care how pushy you get.”

Suddenly a grin split Xander’s face, and he found himself pushing his hips back wantonly, searching out the hard-on that was most certainly behind him somewhere…..”As if you could turn me down.”

He was rewarded for his cheekiness with a slap across his butt cheek, surprising him back into his original position. Then Spike quickly went back to getting the item from the side table – the ivory dildo – slipping his finger through the ring and dipping it into the tall glass bottle, coating it with oil.

Xander noticed that the ivory tool fit into the tall glass bottle exactly, they were exactly the same size. “Dear Lord, he HAS thought this thing through” Xander thought, ducking his head away from the sight, looking down and his hands on the headboard. He was mildly surprised to see his hands were folded there. On his knees, his hands folded before him, he felt absurdly as if he were preparing to pray.

Then Spike caressed his ass-cheeks with the smooth tip of the dildo and Xander lowered his head to his folded hands and began praying in earnest.

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