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Concrit much appreciated and possibly needed
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Summary ~ Xander gives into temptation and Spike gets someone to keep.
Xander looked down at the sleeping vampire, tonight had been too close; the bringers had almost overwhelmed them and he’d been forced to watch in horror as the large knife had been buried in Spike’s chest. It wasn’t made of wood, so of course Spike would recover; but the incident had terrified Xander and he had spent the rest of the night trying to figure out why the thought of Spike’s death scared him so much.
They’d gone from enemies, to rivals, to reluctant roomies; but over the last few weeks of apocalypse-enforced togetherness, their relationship had evolved, they’d become friends. On a few drunken nights, they’d even taken the first fumbling steps towards becoming lovers; hands reaching out in the dark and a blow job, that had almost literally blown Xander’s mind.
None of that explained how he’d felt when he saw Spike bleeding and unconscious on the floor, the pain and fear that had gripped him meant that Spike meant far more to him than he’d let himself realise. Now he just had to figure out what that meant and, just as importantly, if Spike felt it too. The vampire had never mentioned their changing status and he had no clue as to how Spike saw him, was he a lover, a fuck buddy or just a convenient hand in the night? Good or evil, Xander had never been able to really understand Spike; what motivated him, what made him love or hate, why he did the things he did.
He picked up the knife he’d pulled from Spike’s body and turned it over in his hand, bright red drops of the vampire’s blood glistened on the dull metal and soon dripped down to coat his fingers.
Blood it was everything to a vampire, it brought them death, then pulled them back to unlife and sustained them through the long years. Xander remembered how Dracula had been so desperate for Buffy to taste his blood, how sure he’d been that just one drop would change the Slayer forever; and how Buffy had always refused to talk about why she did it or what it was like. When they’d asked, or in Riley’s case demanded, she’d remained tight-lipped, but the look on her face spoke volumes to someone who knew her well; she’d enjoyed it, he knew she had.
Suddenly he had to know for himself; he stared at the blood as if it had all the answers, as though it could explain everything, it could help him understand Spike and figure out what was driving both of them.
Slowly Xander raised his gore-splattered hand to his mouth and, with just the tip of his tongue, lapped at the blood. The taste exploded across his tongue, sending his head and body reeling, sweet and coppery; like liquid fire in his mouth. Another lick and another, now his whole body was on fire. It felt like he was burning; and he needed, craved more of the delicious liquid.
He sucked his fingers clean and then returned his hand to the knife, running his palm up and down the blade; gathering every precious drop of Spike’s essence, heedless of the fact that he was slicing his own hand open in the process. Suckling at his fingers, throat convulsing as he savoured the bewitching flavour.
Xander froze when he heard Spike give an anguished groan, the vampire was awake, even worse he’d managed to get out of bed and sneak up on Xander whilst he indulged in his illicit experiment. Forcing himself to turn round and face the music, Xander was stunned to find himself gazing into the golden eyes of Spike’s demon instead of the ocean blue he’d been expecting.
Xander still couldn’t read Spike, as wonderful as the blood had been, it hadn’t given Xander any blinding insight into the mercurial being in front of him; but before Xander could start to fumble for words, explanations and apologies, Spike reached for him. He pulled the unresisting hand from between Xander’s lips and slowly drew it to his own mouth.
Spike’s tongue darted out and he started to lave Xander’s fingers; probing the small wounds, opening them up to allow the blood to flow more freely; before drawing the fingers into his mouth and sucking hard.
If Xander had thought the taste of Spike’s blood had made him feel good; it was nothing compared to this new sensation. Every time Spike swallowed around his fingers, desire shot through his body. He was rock hard in seconds, his body trembling with need. In no time at all, he was more turned on then he’d ever been in his life and Spike still hadn’t touched any part of him but his hands.
As he rushed towards completion, he struggled to understand what was happening to him, to make sense of this overwhelming desire; but his brain was too overloaded on sensation to co-operate; his last coherent thought was that he wouldn’t need Willow to “gay him up” as he seemed to be doing just fine on his own; and he couldn’t imagine ever being touched by anyone else after Spike had made him want like this.
Then his body convulsed and he leaned closer into the long, lean line of Spike’s body; straining for something, anything to give him relief. When Spike reached for his cock, Xander almost sobbed with relief and as Spike stroked him through the thick denim of his jeans, Xander came with a strangled scream before collapsing, sated, into his vampire’s arms.
Spike eased them both down onto the couch and arranged the dazed mortal on his chest. Carding his fingers through Xander’s hair, he watched as the exhausted boy slipped into sleep. Over the last few weeks Spike had begun to despair of ever being like this with Xander. He’d always lusted after him, but it wasn’t until he’d come back with his shiny new soul, that he’d begun to want something more.
It had been like taming a wild animal, gently leading Xander into a relationship, and while Spike knew Xander finally considered him a friend, until tonight he’d had no idea if the mortal’s feelings ran deeper. Now he knew, every drop of Xander’s blood had been laced with the love he felt for Spike, the worry and fear he’d felt when Spike was hurt and his desire for the vampire’s touch.
Xander was finally his, the weeks of holding back and subtle seductions were done with, there was no turning back now for either of them. He knew that Xander really didn’t understand what had happened, what he’d started by succumbing to his need for Spike’s blood and perhaps Spike should have waited, but the sight of Xander with his fingers in his mouth and blood on his lips had been too much for Spike’s self-control.
Too late for regrets now, the exchange of blood and lust had sealed both their fates; joined them for all time. Spike knew that Xander might castigate him for not giving him a choice, but in the end the boy loved him, with every fibre of his body, even if he’d never acknowledged it to Spike or himself. The blood doesn’t lie and Xander’s blood had told Spike the mortal was already his in every way that counted. So Spike figured the explanations could wait for the morning, right now he just wanted to rest, blanketed by his beloved. Spike drew Xander’s bloody hand back to his mouth and, holding on tight, joined his mate in sleep.