Shame the Devil


by
Yin Again



Part Seventeen

Buffy sat at her desk, sorting reports and idly sipping her Diet Coke. Social work was rewarding at times, but some days the utter tedium of bureaucracy and the drone of the fluorescent lights made her long for when a successful day's work included kicking the shit out of demons and trying to avoid getting vampire dust on her boots. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair.

Straightening up from her usual slump, Buffy pulled her keyboard closer. Opening her case calendar, she sighed again. This called for the big guns. Glancing around the open work area, she made sure none of her coworkers were watching and then slid the bottom desk drawer open. Nestled in the bottom was her stash of Belgian dark chocolate. It was much better than the supermarket chocolate she kept in the candy dish on the desk and much too good to be shared.

She broke off a square of the rich, dark candy and slipped it into her mouth, closing her eyes as it immediately started melting on her tongue. She chased the chocolate with a sip of soda, letting the sharp, icy liquid roll over it, firming it back up on her tongue so that the returning heat of her mouth could melt it again. She repeated the process until the chocolate had melted away. This little ritual helped on days like today.

Buffy opened her eyes and swept them critically over her desk, noting the disarray of files, the business cards spilling out of the little brass monkey card-holder, the napkins left over from a hurried lunch. She had ten minutes before her status meeting with her boss. Resolutely ignoring the mess, she checked her email and finished off her drink. Gathering a stack of active case files, she stood and walked toward the glass-walled office.

Ah hour later, Buffy stood outside the building, lighting a cigarette and dialing on her cell phone. The smoking was an occasional thing, and it bothered her a little that she still felt like she had to hide it. That didn't stop her from hiding it, though.

"Magic Box," Willow chirped on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, Wills. You busy?" Buffy knew she sounded tired and guarded, and realized that Willow had picked up on it when she heard the other girl close her office door with a quiet snap.

"What's up, Buffy?"

Buffy exhaled smoke away from the phone. "Sia's parents have petitioned for a visit. Unsupervised. It's been granted."

"Shit," Willow swore softly. "Do you think they're trying to get her back?"

"I don't know. They just asked for the one visit and we've got no grounds to refuse. Do you want to tell her, or should I?"

"Tara and I will do it," Willow said, and Buffy was struck suddenly by the despair in her friend's voice.

"Hey, Willow, it's going to be OK. Sia is so happy with you guys, and she's not going anywhere. I promise you, she's staying with you, where she belongs."

Willow let out something that was halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "Are you giving me the 'resolve face', Buffy?"

"Yeah, close enough," Buffy said. "I'll have the details tonight, OK? Do we have plans with the guys?"

"Xander called earlier, they're going to meet us here at sunset. Did you know Dawn has a date with Isha?" Willow's voice took on the tone specific to girlfriends launching into the gossip zone. "I can't believe Spike agreed to that."

Buffy felt herself relax and fall into the warm cocoon of longtime friendship. "She had to have blackmailed him, you know how protective he is." Her cigarette was forgotten as the two girls chatted happily.


The ringing phone woke Xander. He untangled himself from the intricately arranged prison of Spike's limbs and crawled to the side of the bed.

"Mmmph. What?" he croaked, clearing his throat and scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Sorry to wake you, Xander," Jack said in his usual measured tone. "Looks like the word is out. We've got about thirty-five fans down here in the lobby."

"Okay," Xander said. "Send up whoever's on, ask at the front desk about putting the fans in a conference room or something for a bit, and I'll try to get the rock star conscious and coherent. I know Annie sent a box of photos, so find them and get it all set up. Thanks, Jack."

Xander hung up the phone and turned back to the bed. Spike was awake, looking up at him from the pillow with a sleep-dazed expression. Xander moved to his hands and knees and arranged himself over the vampire so he could brush his lips lightly over the planes of Spike's face.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said, grinning as Spike arched up into the contact, rubbing his face against Xander's stubbled cheek like a cat. Strong arms came up to encircle Xander's shoulders, and Spike pulled their bodies together. Xander dropped his shoulder and rolled so that the vampire was draped over his chest.

Spike nestled his head under Xander's chin and lay in an unresisting heap, drinking in the warmth of the body below him. "Fans, huh?" he asked.

"Yep. Dinner's on its way. You need to hit the shower and put on your rock star drag." Xander combed his fingers through Spike's unruly curls.

The vampire sighed. "Don't wanna," he said petulantly.

"Yes, you do," Xander replied, cupping the back of Spike's head with his palm. "You love it."

"Love this. Being with you like this," Spike's voice was muffled against Xander's neck.

Xander swallowed hard against the feeling that rose to his throat, and Spike lifted his head to look into his eyes. "You OK, mate?" he asked.

"Yeah," Xander said, his voice a rough creak. "Yeah," he repeated. "Not used to hearing stuff like that." The "from you" was left unspoken.

Spike's grin was brilliant, and he kissed Xander hard on the mouth. He drew back and grinned again. "I like surprising you." The vampire rose to his feet and shuffled off to the shower, leaving an amazed, aroused Xander lying on the bed with a big, dumb grin on his face.

Xander ate a French fry while watching Spike feed from Carl's arm. The huge black man never took his eyes off the football game playing on the television. As soon as Spike pulled away, Carl casually pulled down the sleeve of his sweatshirt and turned to the vampire.

"Did you see that call, man? Offsides my ass," he said.

"Don't look at me, mate - I don't understand American football," Spike replied. He gestured to Carl's arm. "Thanks."

"No sweat," Carl replied. Xander ate another fry.

Spike walked back into the bedroom to get dressed, and Xander contemplated Carl. He'd wondered how the change in his and Spike's status would affect his feelings about the bodyguards, and in the past two days he had watched Spike feed from both Carl and Ace with no untoward reaction.

He had enjoyed the sensation of Spike drinking his blood during sex. OK, enjoyed was a weak word for a feeling that had made him come so hard he'd nearly blacked out, but - yeah, enjoyed. He thought about the idea of Spike feeding from him for food, not sex, and the idea didn't squick him out. Much. It did seem sort of impersonal, though.

His train of thought was completely derailed by Spike's reemergence from the bedroom. The vampire was shrugging into a faded cream-colored oxford over a plain white tee shirt. He was wearing black jeans and boots, and his hair was brushed back, tidy, but still retaining some curl. He looked young and sexy and happy. He was smiling. Xander looked at him and realized how infrequently he had seen Spike smile without reason in the past. Spike's usual facial expression was guarded, relaxed but observant, his predator nature at rest. The Spike in the doorway was relaxed, from the easy set of his shoulders to his small smile to the motions of his fingers, buttoning the last couple of buttons on his shirt. He was breathtaking.

Spike looked up and caught the appreciative gleam in Xander's eye, and his smile broadened. "I look OK?" he asked.

"Million bucks," Xander answered, "pre-tax, of course."

Carl flicked the remote to turn the TV off and walked to the door. Spike and Xander joined him, and the vampire brushed his hand across Xander's as they left the suite.

Spike signed the final photo with a flourish and smiled at the speechless girl in front of him. "Here you go, sweetheart," he purred, and she walked away in a daze. The sun had set while Spike had shaken hands with and signed photos for each of the waiting fans, the smile never dropping from his face. As soon as the door of the conference room closed, he lowered his head into his hands and scrubbed his fingers over his cheeks.

He heard something hit the table and looked up. He smiled at Xander and picked up the beer that the other man had set down. "Thanks."

"You looked like you could use it. You up for going to Willow's? She's got some ideas for Giles' cure."

Spike drained the beer and stood. "Let's go." As Xander turned toward the door, Spike stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He turned back, and was pulled into the circle of the vampire's arms and kissed thoroughly.

"What...what was that all about?" Xander asked, dazed.

"Wanted to," Spike answered.

"You have poor impulse control," Xander said, grinning.

"You just noticed?"


Spike and Xander entered Willow and Tara's home in a happy, relaxed mood. Which dissipated as soon as they took in Willow's angry look, the shine of tears in Tara's eyes, and Sia's sullen posture on the sofa beside a grinning Giles.

"Bad time?" Xander asked.

Sia leapt up off of the couch and ran from the room. The sound of a slamming door reverberated through the house, and Spike winced.

"Bad time," Xander said. "What's going on?"

Willow stood up from her chair and gathered a box of tissues from a side table. She pulled a few from the box and gently pressed them into Tara's hand, giving her a sweet smile.

"Sia has to visit with her parents tomorrow, and she does not want to do it," Willow explained. "I tried to tell her that it's just for the day and that she's coming back here, but she thinks we're sending her away." Her anguish was obvious as she put her arm around Tara's shoulder and rubbed soothingly.

Tara wiped her eyes with the tissues, and then crushed them in her hand. "She'll be OK. She just needs to get used to the idea. Her parents didn't react well when her powers started to manifest, and she's just scared. I'll let her cool off and then go talk to her."

Xander remembered that Tara's own family had reacted badly to her magical powers, and it had eventually led to a complete rift between them. Sia's situation had to be bringing back unpleasant memories. He crossed the room to the blonde witch and put his arm around her other shoulder.

"Well, Tara, if anyone can be counted on to talk down a hormonal teen witch, I'm thinking it's you," he said, grinning down at her. She returned the smile, and the tension in the room eased noticeably.

Xander turned to Willow. "Where are Buffy and Dawn?" he asked.

"They went to get the last two ingredients for Giles' cure!" Her excitement at being able to cure the Watcher outweighed her upset for a moment, and she bounced happily. "We found a potion that will counteract both of the poisons. It will work slowly, but we're gonna get him back, Xander." Her relief was evident.

Xander hugged both women to him. "Good," he whispered into their blended hair, "Good. It'll be nice to talk to sane Giles again." The three turned to the sofa, where not-so-sane Giles was happily watching cartoons with Spike.





Part Eighteen

Everyone watched as Giles drank the sweet-smelling potion that looked remarkably like orange juice. He drained the glass and handed it to Tara with a smile, and then turned back to the television. Tara shared a bemused look and a shrug with Xander and they walked to the kitchen, leaving the others in the living room. Once in the kitchen, Tara rinsed the glass and began clearing up the mess the potion-making session had left.

"Well," Xander said, opening the dishwasher and starting to fill it, "Willow said it would work slowly. I guess I was just hoping for an instant cure."

"Me, too," Tara said wistfully. "Even though I know better."

They worked silently for a few minutes until the kitchen door opened and an exhausted-looking Willow came in and slumped into one of the plain wooden chairs set around the table. She rested her forehead on her hands and sighed. Tara wiped her hands and moved to Willow, rubbing her shoulders and dusting a kiss across the top of her head.

"How's Sia?" Xander asked, finishing with the dishes and crossing to the refrigerator for a beer.

"Better. Not so mad. Were we that moody as teenagers?" She looked up at Tara.

"Probably," Xander answered. "But, we also had the whole slaying gig. I seem to remember that cutting into a lot of prime self-absorbed whining time."

Willow sighed. "She's just afraid that her parents are going to reject her again, and she thought we were rejecting her by making her go on the visit. I think I got her settled, but now she doesn't want to come out of her room because she's embarrassed for causing a scene."

Xander and Tara slid into the chairs flanking Willow, and the three friends looked at one another for a moment.

"Well, I don't really have any advice on this one. I mean, working with Spike is a lot like raising a child, but I don't really think I have any insight for you." Xander's eyes twinkled, and he was happy that he could coax small smiles out of the two worried women.

Back in the living room, Spike rose to his feet and stretched. Buffy looked up from the TV and raised an eyebrow at him. He pointed toward the back of the house, and she stared after him as he walked away.

"Come in." Sia's voice was soft in response to Spike's knock on her door. He stopped in the doorway and leaned against the frame.

"Hey," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Hey," she replied. She was lying on the bed on her stomach. Her long, dark hair was hanging in her face and flowing down onto the notebook on the bed in front of her.

"Diary?" Spike asked.

"Kinda," she replied. She sat up on the bed and moved to close the notebook.

"Don't stop on my account," Spike said. "I just got bored watching the telly, thought I'd see what sort of trouble you were about."

Sia slid the notebook onto the bed table and pushed her hair behind her ear. The gesture revealed her delicate features and dark eyes. She looked at Spike thoughtfully.

"Do you write your songs?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I'm not...I couldn't. Um, I'm a better singer than writer, really."

"I sometimes write poetry," she confided, looking sideways at the vampire lounging in her doorway.

"Is it any good?" he asked.

"Probably not," Sia replied. "It doesn't always rhyme."

"Who says it has to rhyme? Some of the best poetry in the world doesn't rhyme," Spike told her, a frown wrinkling his brow. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and stepped further into the room, gesturing. "There's all kinds of poetry."

An hour later Xander found them sitting on Sia's bed with the notebook between them. Spike was crossing out a word and writing above it, and Xander just had to grin at the sight of the vampire writing with a hot pink gel pen, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.

"See?" Spike said, capping the pen and using it to point at the page. "Now the meter's right and it flows better."

Sia smiled up at him and took the proffered pen and notebook. "Thanks, Spike," she said.

Xander cleared his throat. "We're going to head out - the ladies need their beauty rest."

Spike and Sia shared an eye-roll, and Spike levered himself off the bed. As he turned to go, he reached out and ruffled her hair. "Later, Wednesday," he said.

"See ya, Fang," she replied casually.

As Spike reached the door, Sia stood up. "Um, Xander?" she said.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to apologize for earlier - the door slamming and, you know - teenager stuff."

"It's all right. You weren't nearly as bad as Spike in a snit. Apology accepted." Xander deftly sidestepped a punch in the arm from Spike, and the two men clasped hands as they walked down the hall.


Bill slammed the door of the limo. By the time he made it to the front of the car, Spike raised the partition and pulled Xander into his arms.

"Impatient much?" Xander quipped, eyes dancing with laughter.

"Yes," Spike said, and then pulled Xander closer, brushing their lips together lightly. Cool lips traced Xander's mouth, then moved across his cheek to his ear, then trailed over his jaw and down his neck. Spike reached out one hand and depressed the button on the intercom.

"Where to?" Bill asked.

"Just drive," Spike said, and then executed a complicated maneuver that resulted in a reversal of their positions. Xander found himself sitting normally with Spike straddling his thighs. Always one to make the most of any situation, he grasped Spike's hips and pulled, bringing their bodies into closer contact. They both groaned as their erections brushed together through the barrier of their clothing.

Xander reached up and pulled Spike's mouth down to his. It started out gently, but within seconds the two men were kissing roughly, tongues fighting for dominance, teeth nipping, fingers flexing against each other's skulls. Xander pulled back far enough to get his hands between them. He laid his hands on Spike's thighs and then slid them slowly up the tense muscles until his thumbs rested on either side of Spike's zipper. Xander traced the jutting column of Spike's erection through the denim, digging his thumbs in enough to make Spike groan.

Xander broke the kiss to gulp in much-needed air and began jerking at the fastenings of Spike's jeans. The vampire lowered his mouth to Xander's neck, biting his earlobe, and then licking and sucking his way down tanned flesh until he reached the hollow of his throat. Xander felt Spike's moan vibrate against him when he finally freed the vampire's cock and began stroking it forcefully.

"Sir."

"Heh. You don't have to call me sir, Xan," Spike panted, raising his head. He made a sharp noise of protest when Xander's hand left his cock.

"Get over yourself," Xander said. "It's the intercom."

The car jerked to a stop at the same time Xander pushed the button to speak.

"Fuck," Spike exclaimed, climbing off of Xander's lap and struggling to zip his jeans.

Out the tinted window, Xander could see Buffy running toward them with five vampires in hot pursuit. A huge grin split her face as the two men stepped out of the car.

"Hey, guys," she called. "How about a little help here?"

Xander raised one hand and she expertly tossed him the stake she was carrying. She pulled two more from her back pockets and deftly palmed one to Spike as he caught her arm to pivot her to a stop facing their opponents.

The two vamps in the lead charged harder, and Spike and Xander stepped forward, dusting them easily. The other three were cagier, circling warily.

Buffy and Spike both rushed into the fight, punching, kicking and dodging. Xander dropped into a defensive crouch and waited. His opponent was very tall and thin, but he moved with liquid grace.

"Ah, shit," the vampire said. "Why do I have to fight the human?"

"Just unlucky, I guess," Xander quipped, still waiting.

"At least I get to eat," the vampire replied, and pounced.

Xander dodged the move and swept the vampire's feet out from under him, laughing at the surprised look on the creature's face as it fell.

"Dinner might have to wait," Xander said. He gleefully kicked the vamp in the head, and then leaned down to shove the stake through it, remembering to hold his breath as the dust settled.

Xander straightened and had to laugh. Spike had his opponent, a hulking brute, by one arm and was rhythmically punching it in the face. Spike was talking, and he emphasized each word with a vicious blow.

"And. That. Is. For. Fucking. Up. My. Limo. Sex," he muttered, and then finished by finally staking the unfortunate vampire. He brushed the dust from his hands and turned toward Xander.

"You a little frustrated?" Xander asked.

"Not for too much longer," Spike answered, closing the distance between them. He looked over Xander's shoulder, checking on Buffy's progress with her opponent. Seeing that she was fine, he kissed Xander hard, holding him tightly by the back of the neck. Xander grabbed Spike's hips and slammed them against his own, groaning at the contact of their erections. The two men broke apart in time to watch Buffy dust her vamp, and they both clapped politely. Xander knocked on the car window and waited while Bill lowered it.

"You OK?" Xander asked.

Bill looked at him calmly. "I'm from Cleveland and I've driven the Rolling Stones," he said.

"OK then," Xander said. He turned to Spike and Buffy. "Wanna go back to the hotel and talk about this?" Buffy nodded; Spike shot him a dagger look.

"I won't stay long," Buffy reassured Spike, and he scowled at her. They piled into the limo for the short ride back to the Delta.

Ace and Isha met them at the portico, and both men began immediately berating Spike and Xander for going out unguarded. Xander took the abuse with a smile, but Spike invited them to "sod off" and stalked toward the hotel. Ace managed to get ahead of him and open the door, gesturing the annoyed vampire inside with a grand, sweeping gesture. The others followed.

After arriving in the suite, Xander sent Isha to get Jack and Carl.

"While we're waiting for the guys, do you want a drink, Buffy? Spike?" he asked. He returned to the living room with drinks. Spike nodded his thanks and pulled Xander down next to him on the sofa, looping and arm proprietarily over the human's knee.

The bodyguards arrived, and the group sat looking at Buffy expectantly.

"I'm on, I guess," she said, smiling. "I was just doing a routine sweep when that whole crowd jumped me. I guess I disturbed a nest or something."

"I thought the vamps all moved on after the Hellmouth imploded?" Xander said.

"They did, or at least, they had," Buffy said, frowning. "I haven't seen five vamps together in years. Well, not here, anyway."

"Something's up," Spike said.

Buffy jumped when her cell phone trilled. She grinned sheepishly as she flipped it open and pressed a button.

"Hello?" She listened for a moment. "That's great!" Pause. "That's great." Pause. "Oh. That's bad. On our way." She clicked the phone shut. "That was Willow," she said. "Giles got up and handed her a book with a marked passage. She said he was pretty excited about it."

"Apocalypse?" Xander asked.

"Pretty much." Buffy nodded. "Needs more research, though."

"How's Giles now?" Xander asked.

"Willow said he wandered back to bed. We're supposed to meet at the Box." Buffy looked around the room at the bodyguards. "You guys don't have to get involved in this, you know," she said.

The four men exchanged short glances. Jack looked at Buffy, and then tilted his head toward Spike and Xander. "If they're in, we're in," he said.

Buffy looked at Spike and Xander, who nodded. "You're in, then," she said. "Welcome to the Hellmouth."





Part Nineteen

Research was...research. Willow handed everyone dusty old volumes, and the bodyguards gamely started flipping through them, scanning for references to the Ritual of DeShand. It was proving elusive to the readers and to Willow, who was Googling at a rapid pace.

Spike read the page he was on for the sixth time and tried in vain to still the bouncing of his knee. He was wound up, horny and utterly sick of any activity that didn't include shagging Xander through the mattress. Trust a bloody apocalypse to get in his way yet again - the cosmic joke was wearing thin.

Buffy had gone back to Willow and Tara's house to stay with Giles and Sia, and Tara and Dawn had shown up a bit later with snacks and coffee for the research crew, then joined in. Spike looked up to see Dawn's head nodding down towards her book, and he slammed his own closed, startling her back upright.

"That's it. Can't stand this anymore. Everybody go home," he said, tossing his book onto the table and jumping to his feet.

"But...research...and," Willow's protest was cut off by a huge yawn.

"My point exactly, Red," Spike said kindly. "You lot need some sleep." He turned his gaze to Xander, and his eyes promised something else entirely. Xander gave Spike a slow blink and an even slower smile.

"Right," Spike said. "Let's go."

The bodyguards stacked their books on the table and waited by the door in a grim line.

"We're never going to be able to go anywhere without them again, are we?" Xander asked Spike, eyeing the four muscular men.

"Probably not," was Spike's dry reply. "Guess we'll just have to stay in." He leaned his shoulder against Xander's and brought his hand up to clasp the tanned skin at the back of the human's neck. Xander shivered at the contact.

"Staying in is good," he said, and pressed his shoulder against Spike's side.

The girls finished securing the store, and Carl and Isha walked out first, followed by the Sunnydale crew. Jack and Ace fell in behind for the short walk to their cars. Once the women were safely away, the six men piled into the limousine, Jack in front and the others in back. It was rather a tight fit, but Spike didn't mind the necessity of sitting very close to Xander. He took the opportunity to drape his hand over the human's denim-clad knee and trace the bones there with his fingernails.

Back at the hotel, Spike managed to keep his hands to himself in the elevator through sheer force of will, but the moment the door of the suite closed behind them, all bets were off.

With one hand on his shoulder, Spike turned Xander and pushed him against the wall, rattling a painting and eliciting a chuckle that he cut off with his mouth. The chuckle turned into a groan, and Xander wrapped his arms around Spike and submitted to a sweet kiss.

Sweetness didn't last very long. The interrupted limo sex, the adrenaline of the fight and the complete and utter boredom of several long hours of research all combined to stretch Spike's limited patience to the breaking point.

"Want you, Xan," he whispered between kisses. "I want to fuck you." Spike felt Xander stiffen a little at the panted words, but there was no pause in the frantic kisses, and the grip on Spike's hips only intensified. Xander buried his face in Spike's neck and licked a path from collarbone to jaw. Spike shuddered as teeth and tongue rasped over his jugular. He tilted his head back and to the side, allowing Xander full access to the long column of his throat. Spike wrapped a hand into Xander's hair and pulled his head up so their eyes could meet. Xander's were hazy with passion, pupils almost comically huge. Spike's eyes were glittering, hard and predatory, and they followed the motion as Xander swallowed hard.

Spike stepped back and held out a hand. "Come to bed with me?" he asked, knowing that his eyes were making the question into a demand, and not caring very much. Xander nodded and allowed himself to be led to the bedroom. Spike reached out and began stripping off Xander's clothes, batting away the lust-clumsy hands that rose to assist and interfere. Spike then turned his hands to his own clothes and roughly threw them aside.

Spike climbed onto the bed and propped himself up against the headboard, pulling Xander down so that they were facing one another, with Xander's knees on either side of Spike's thighs. The position brought their erections together and they both pushed forward to increase the contact. Xander snaked a hand between their bodies and encircled both of their cocks. Spike gasped at the twin sensations of Xander's rigid flesh and hot hand bracketing him.

Spike pulled Xander's head down and kissed him roughly, thrusting his tongue in time with Xander's strokes. With his other hand, he fumbled in the drawer of the bedside table. Finding what he was looking for, he expertly opened the tube of lubricant one-handed and soaked the fingers of his left hand.

Spike spread his own legs a little, opening Xander's above him. He slipped his hand beneath Xander's balls, letting the back of his fingers brush against the soft, velvety skin teasingly, and smiling when Xander gasped into his mouth. He didn't let up on the intensity of the kiss as he gently circled one fingertip around the opening to Xander's body, finally pressing inside. Xander was relaxed, and within seconds he was pushing down against Spike's hand, silently begging him to move.

Spike obliged, after a minute adding a second finger, twisting them and speeding his pace. This was as far as he had ever gone with Xander, as far as anyone had, to his knowledge. He tried to move slowly, but his control was frayed by the sight, smell and sound of Xander, flexing his knees and fucking himself on Spike's hand.

Spike spread his own legs even further, and worked another finger into Xander's body, knowing that his tissues were stretching painfully. Xander's hand on their cocks stilled, and he broke the kiss to rest his head on Spike's shoulder to pant.

Spike stopped with his fingers halfway inside. "Xan, love," he said. "You're so fucking tight. You feel like velvet inside, all hot and slick and sweet." He petted Xander's hair and gently kissed the side of his neck. "Just relax and let me in, I won't hurt you. Much."

Xander laughed at his tone and lifted his head so their eyes could meet. At the same time, he pushed down, letting Spike's fingers slide fully into him. Spike felt Xander's body crushing his fingers together, fighting the intrusion until something relaxed and gave and he was able to move. He began moving his fingers in and out, unable to do more than keep up an uneven rhythm and watch lust, fear, surprise and pain war for dominance on Xander's face.

Lust was winning. Grimaces of pain quickly turned to something else. Xander's eyes were gleaming, and Spike could feel hot breath brushing his cheek, carried on waves of small gasps and moans.

"How you doing, love?" Spike asked.

"Very...non-verbal," Xander gasped. "'S good."

"Get verbal," Spike said; his voice strained with the need to hear the words. "Tell me."

"Want...you," Xander panted, and Spike pulled his hand quickly from between them.

He slicked himself and pulled Xander into position. He looked into Xander's eyes. "You're in charge, love," he said, smiling when he saw comprehension dawn. It took all of his control to not slam his hips upwards when Xander began to take him in, and he knew he was babbling about heat and softness and God and love and Jesusfuck and please, but couldn't stop himself.

When he was halfway inside, Xander stopped moving, holding his body tense, panting, eyes wild. "Don't know if...I can take it," he gasped.

"Yes, you can," Spike assured him. "For me, you can." He pulled Xander's head down to his and kissed him slowly and thoroughly, feeling his entire body start to relax.

Spike shouted into the kiss when Xander flexed his knees, slamming their bodies together in a swift move. They both froze in place.

Xander pulled back and looked into Spike's face, the look in his eyes a mixture of lust, triumph and pain. "Glad it was you...first."

The words broke Spike's very tenuous hold on his control and he started moving inside Xander, grabbing his thighs hard enough to bruise, rolling his hips and thrusting wildly. The movement was enough to send Xander over the edge; the clenching of internal muscles was Spike's undoing and he let go.

By the time either one could form a coherent sentence, they were almost sealed together with drying sweat and other fluids. Both men hissed as they pulled apart, and Xander's knees made ominous cracking noises as he finally unbent them. He fell heavily onto the other side of the bed, face-down.

"You OK?" Spike asked.

"Mrmmmphmmmm," Xander replied into the pillow.

"I see verbal's still shot to hell, how are you on math?"

Xander lifted one hand and flipped Spike the bird.

"One. That's a good start." He tiredly pushed at a tanned shoulder. "Shower."

Xander turned so he could blink lazily at Spike. "Too far."

Spike reached out and smoothed Xander's hair back from his face, and then leaned in for a gentle kiss. He pulled back and smiled. "Shower; you smell like a whorehouse."

Xander rubbed his face against the pillow. "You sweet-talker, you," he sighed, and then levered himself off the bed. He hesitated for a second, then leaned down and bit the enticing globe of Spike's shiny, white ass.

At Spike's indignant, "Hey!" he sprinted for the bathroom.

Spike followed.




The End




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