Authored by: Tisienne (aka tistoo)
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: Joss owns them. I am paid solely in feedback.
Distribution: here, of course... and as always, Spander Files can have anything and everything of mine for their remarkable archive. :)
A/N: Spike left Sunnydale early in S7. Xander followed with Dawn a few months later. Sunnydale's a hole in the ground. Spike and Xander are definitely involved by this point. LOL
A/N2: Many, MANY thanks to the lovely angstpuppy for the wonderful icon I just re-found. You still rock, dearie!
Previous parts live HERE in Spanderland
And now, on with the very delayed part 32. Hope you guys like. Those of you who remember this, I mean. *sheepish grin*
* * * * * * * * *
* * * * *
So the Bit’s friend was a Slayer.
On the one hand, it was good to know, simply because Spike was tired of wondering about the fate of the Sunnydale crew.
It sounded cold, even to him, but after months of no word at all from any of the gang and no sign of even a potential Slayer, it was good to be sure.
He still couldn’t say a hundred percent whether Slayer and the one his bloke called Faith were really dead and gone. Hell, he was a vampire. He for damned sure didn’t know the inner workings of being called and Chosen and all that rot.
Maybe it was only one of the Slayers that was dead.
Either way, though, he was pretty bloody certain that nobody would be showing up on his doorstep to haul Xander and the Bit off to… wherever the bloody fucking hell the Watchers were lurking these days.
The small smile he wore grew as he heard his bloke’s footsteps come off the elevator, the soft thuds of his shoes growing steadily louder, and by the time Xander actually unlocked the door and swept inside, Spike was waiting for him.
“Hi, honey. You’re home,” he deadpanned, congratulating himself on the grin the words earned him. “How’d it go? That git come through for you?” He’d better have, if he knew what was good for him, Spike told himself, all the while keeping his expression merely hopeful and curious.
Spike was up to something.
Xander knew Spike was up to something.
It would be easy enough to find out exactly what it was, too, but that would involve opening up whatever bizarre mental connection they had and Xander didn’t want to do that. Not yet. Not that he knew how to do that, of course, but he’d somehow managed to close it and he wasn’t willing to take a chance on not being able to do it again. He needed to figure out what to do about his… about the person he wasn’t thinking the name of until he figured out what to do about him.
He took it as a sign that Spike had some secrets of his own that the blond hadn’t bothered to ask why he’d shut him out, and Xander suspected that whatever the vampire was up to with the simple question and oh-so-innocent smile was only the tip of the devious, vampy iceberg, but for the moment…? He was fine with that.
His head cocked just a bit and he tried to look thoughtful. “It went… okay, I think,” he finally answered, one arm snaking around Spike’s shoulders and drawing the slightly smaller man against him for a long, slow kiss. “Mmmm… missed that.”
A deep chuckle bounced around in Spike’s chest for a few moments before slipping out past his lips. “Yah, pet… now define ‘okay’, right?”
Spike’s smirk grew as he watched his boy give himself an obvious mental shake. “More snoggin’ later, luv. Promise you that, yeah? But for now, I want ta know what you meant by ‘it went okay’, got it?’
One full, red bottom lip plumped into a pout and Xander pressed his free hand dramatically to his forehead. “Oh, woe is me! The magic has gone out of our relationship! You’d rather talk!”
Another long, hard kiss later—this one involving much more tongue and a rather lengthy bout of roaming hands—found the two men tangled together on the couch, and when Spike asked again, Xander finally spilled.
His latest interview—this one for actual construction-type work—had gone much better than just okay.
In fact, he was just one background check away from being hired— thanks to Bailey’s mother, who had mentioned Xander’s plight in passing to her neighbor who just happened to be the site foreman for a new high rise office building that would be breaking ground sometime in the next month.
Xander had been afraid, initially, that he’d run into the same problem he’d had when he and Dawn had first arrived in Philadelphia, but DeeDee had apparently told the man about Sunnydale and so on. That being the case, the man had made a deal with his boss.
They would run Xander’s information through a Federal background check, as well as one for the state of California, and assuming they came back without any major black marks, they would spend a day putting Xander through his paces on a site that was currently in progress.
“So if it goes well, I… I might be an actual employed guy in like a couple of weeks, Spike!” Xander beamed, pressing yet another happy kiss to Spike’s lips.
And bloody hell, it was good to see his bloke excited about something again. Something other than sex, he meant, which was always exciting for the both of them, but… he was still worried about what was going to happen once the boy’s co-worker’s found out that Xander was such good company.
Oh, he didn’t really think Xander would go off and leave him, but he was used to having all of the boy’s time for himself and the Bit, and… still, this was what Xander wanted and as long as his bloke was happy, then he’d do his damnedest not to miss him too much when he ran off for the inevitable ‘drinks with the guys’ and ‘business party’ things. His boy would still be coming home to him, and that was what really mattered, he told himself. No matter what lies Xander had to tell at work just to avoid getting beat up… or fired. It was a small price, the blond figured.
“Never doubted it for a moment, luv,” Spike murmured as the kiss broke. “Just be sure ta mention your sister an’… cousin from England, I suppose. Y’know. Just in case they need ta call you an’ one of us answers.”
Just that quickly, Xander was frowning, his brow creased as he tried to understand what Spike was saying. “But I don’t have a cousin from Eng… wait.”
He took a moment to untangle himself from the blond and struggled up from the couch, arms crossing over his chest as he glared down into resigned blue.
“You think… I mean, you really think…” He laughed almost bitterly and shook his head. “Fuck you, Spike. Yeah, I call Dawn my sister or my niece or whatever because it just makes it easier for people not to think there’s something sick and weird going on. But if you really believe I’m gonna pretend you’re my cousin just to spare your fucking image, think again!”
He was nearly snarling, he was so angry all of a sudden. “You’re my boyfriend, damn it! My lover! I’ve had my cock up your ass, Spike, and you loved it! And you for damned sure weren’t complaining when you were fucking me through the mattress, so I’d say it’s a bit late for you to be getting all ashamed of us now! You bit me and fucked me and you made me like it, Spike! You made me feel all… not so… so not… not what my Dad ever said! And I… you made me gay, you stupid fucking vampire! There! I said it! I’m gay and I love you and you Claimed me, shithead! You took care of me and you said you loved me and you’re mine! You don’t get to back out now! Not when I’m finally… happy!”
“What th’ bloody fuck are you…” was all Spike managed to say because the next thing he knew, he was being dragged from the couch and hauled across the apartment, into their bedroom.
He heard the door slam and spared a moment to thank whatever Gods would listen that the Bit was in school for a good few more hours, and then he wasn’t really thinking much at all, aside from ‘God… yes… just like… yah, pet… bloody hell, Xan…’.
* * * * *
He’d been furious; Xander remembered that much.
He’d been furious and sad and determined to remind Spike of… something.
He had a vague recollection of shouting, then dragging his lover into their room.
He even thought he might recall throwing the blond onto the bed.
How they’d managed to get naked was a mystery to him, but if Xander was going to be honest, he didn’t really care much.
The how was irrelevant. It only mattered that they were.
“Spike…” he groaned, one hand tight on a slender hip while the other rested, fingers spread wide, on that pale, smooth back.
His own hips moved smoothly now, the sharp, disjointed anger of earlier soothed by the moaning, groaning acceptance of the body before and beneath him.
“Spike,” he muttered again, falling more fully into his rhythm as his thrusts became deeper, slower, more intense. “God… love you, baby… love you so much… sorry, so sorry if I h-hurt you…” And that was true. He hadn’t wanted to hurt the blond; hadn’t wanted to make him bleed, but… there was a slight salty-copper tinge in the air and he’d been so frantic at first—he knew it. He could feel the small bits of jagged emotion still fading inside him, and… “God… love you, Spike… s-sorry…”
And his boy could shag well enough to make even a vampire envious, Spike realized yet again. In fact, this time—even with as much as Xander claimed to be sorry—he could tell that a part of the boy was reveling in taking control the way he’d done.
Hell, Spike was reveling in it, too.
He wasn’t exactly the submissive sort, as he figured anyone who’d ever really known him would swear to, but… there was something in knowing—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that he made his bloke just as crazy as his Xan made him that just had some unknown part of him… relaxing.
Xander loved him. Wanted him. He’d known that. Hell, he’d known it, wallowed in it, wrapped it around himself and rubbed it all over his body… in the purely figurative sense, of course. But knowing that Xander needed him… that the boy wouldn’t let him go even if Spike went entirely off his bloody nut and wanted to be released?
Oh, yeah. That was bloody well sublime.
Part of him—the soul, he was sure—thought there was something a little bit sick about wanting to be owned so completely, but the demon in him understood.
As much as Xander Harris owned Spike, the boy was equally owned.
It was good.
Hell, it was beyond good.
It was right and true and desired and entirely fucking perfect, as far as the vampire was concerned, and Claimed was Claimed.
So no, he didn’t care about a little blood and a truly small amount of pain. Not really.
In fact, he only cared at all because his boy obviously did, and so Spike did the only thing he could think of to take that tiny edge of sorrow from his boy’s voice.
He spread his knees farther still and pressed up onto his palms, leaving small dents in the covers as his elbows straightened.
He lifted his head, arching his neck as he slammed himself back roughly onto the thick, hot shaft piercing his bowels. “Love you too, pet… harder, Xan!” he almost growled, and “Split me wide, luv! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
It was the obvious pleasure in Spike’s voice that kept Xander going. In fact, it was that same tone, combined with the way the blond was pushing into his thrusts that had Xander pistoning his hips forward harder and harder still, until Spike was gasping out short, desperate cries, and then Xander… stopped.
He stopped balls-deep inside his love’s stretched but still-so-tight hole and slid his arms quickly around that slender waist.
“Beg,” he ordered, while part of him cringed at the demand and wondered exactly what in the hell was wrong with him. He shouldn’t be acting even slightly like this; especially after what had happened to him as a child, but he couldn’t help it, not even a little bit, and… And the most disturbing part wasn’t that he couldn’t help it, but that… he wasn’t disturbed by the way he was treating Spike and Spike wasn’t disturbed either, and that should have been fine and it was, but at the same time it just… wasn’t… and his head hurt, his mouth hurt, his eyes hurt… but it was the good kind of hurt, like stretching sore muscles a couple days after a workout, and…
And Spike couldn’t move. Not with Xander over him, covering him like he was a bitch in heat, which he supposed he was, sort of. He could barely even twitch with those strong, dark arms holding him trapped, spine against Xander’s stomach, chest… And his boy wanted him to beg?
It was unexpected, but also somehow oddly arousing, and in this case, Spike was going to just go with flow, so to speak, and…
“Please, luv… please, pet… fuck me, Xander. Please. Harder. More. Let me feel you in th’ back of my throat, you’re so deep. Please, please, please… love you, Xan… do me good like you always do, pet…” and then—because Spike suddenly thought he knew what might be happening here—he added “Make me your own, luv… please!”
Xander wasn’t sure of when or how he’d fallen back onto his heels, but he’d done it.
More importantly, he’d taken Spike with him because he now had a lap full of heavily-breathing vampire.
His arms were still tight around Spike’s abdomen, his chest was still tight to Spike’s spine… and his cock was buried even deeper inside that blissful hole than it had been mere moments earlier.
His shoulders rose and fell in an improvised shrug, his hold on his vampire lifting and dropping that long, cool body on his throbbing shaft, and when Spike started gasping again, whimpering and arching, Xander did what he had to do. What he needed to do.
One arm tightened, continuing the fast, hard, up and down motion with Spike’s form while the other released pale flesh and darted down to wrap the vampire’s turgid length in hot fingers made hotter still by desire, exertion and need.
That hand stroked roughly, even as suddenly lengthened teeth drove deep into the top of one white, unmarked shoulder following a wild, desperate cry of “MINE!”
He’d been right, Spike thought dazedly as his body arched and bowed and emptied copious streams of slightly cool spunk onto the bed.
He’d been right about what was happening, and…
And he felt Xander’s thick, perfect cock swelling even more, throbbing inside him in time with his bloke’s racing heartbeat; felt lengthened but still mostly blunt teeth driving deeper.
He felt his bloke, his beloved, the love of his existence swallowing him down, and Spike couldn’t help but cum again right before passing out to the accompaniment of Xander’s muffled cries of completion against his skin.