Nothing the Same, Book 2
Rating: THIS CHAPTER NC-17
Warning: explicit sex
Feedback & concrit: yes, please
Disclaimer: don't own them, never will, just playing with them
Spoilers: Anything from Season 1 on.
Summary: sequel to Nothing the Same. Life goes on for Spike & Xander.
previous part here
For the first time in a week, Spike wasn’t jolted awake at the crack of bloody dawn by Xander trying to quietly dress and leave the bedroom - a process which inevitably led to a certain amount of noisy fumbling around in the dark as Xander refused to turn a light on in a misguided effort to not disturb Spike. Today, for a change, Xander hadn’t stirred until mid-morning and then he had simply shuffled sleepily to the bathroom and returned a short time later to snuggle back under the covers with a contented sigh. Drowsing comfortably against the warmth of his boy’s strong back, Spike drifted back to sleep with the sound and smell of his Claimed surrounding him.
An hour or two later, the rumbling sounds from Xander’s belly roused Spike and told him that he would soon be losing his pillow to the kitchen. Sure enough, Xander shortly began stirring and trying to slide out of Spike’s encircling arms. Spike tightened his grip and threw an imprisoning leg over Xander’s for good measure, which earned him a chuckle and Xander turned his head to look back over his shoulder at Spike.
“’S right. Dreadful time o’ day,” Spike muttered without releasing his hold. He felt Xander turning in his arms to face him but didn’t open his eyes, hoping Xander would go back to sleep for awhile longer. Instead, he felt a gentle kiss as warm, soft lips coaxed his to open.
“Morning’s not so bad when you can spend it in bed.” Xander’s quiet voice was filled with laughter and Spike opened his eyes to see amused brown eyes watching him from bare inches away. His own lips curved and with one swift movement, he rolled them both over so that Xander was beneath him.
Settling himself comfortably on top of the warm body, he looked consideringly down at his boy. “You offering to make waking up worth my time?” he purred.
Xander opened his mouth to answer and Spike pounced, seizing his lips in a long, ardent kiss, his tongue darting inside to explore. Xander answered enthusiastically and Spike’s hands slid up to close in the dark wavy hair. Xander’s hair had grown, brushing his shoulders in back and Spike loved burying his hands in the crisp waves. Holding Xander’s head still, Spike used his dominant position to control the kiss, devouring his boy’s mouth, his lips sliding over Xander’s for an endless moment.
After a long minute, Spike abandoned the warm lips and his head dipped as he trailed kisses down the lines of Xander’s throat, relishing the feel and smell of the blood throbbing in the veins so tantalizingly close to the surface. He shifted further down until his tongue was teasing and worrying at his claim mark as Xander arched his head back, exposing more of his throat to Spike’s ministrations.
“You taste like the sun,” Spike murmured, his lips busy now along the tanned flesh of Xander’s chest. The previous day’s boat trip had left Xander with a fresh tan and Spike could sense the prickle of residual heat along Xander’s shoulders where they still glowed faintly red from the sun and wind.
“Do you miss the sun?” Xander asked, his own hands running caressingly along the pale skin of Spike’s back.
Spike glanced up at him, hearing the seriousness underlying the curiosity. “Not the way you’re thinking, pet. Born in Victoria’s London, remember. It was a dark, filthy place back then. Coal dust could black out the sun for days at a time. Then too, had pretensions of being a gentlemen.” He smirked at the scoffing noise Xander made and bent his head to nibble at Xander’s nipples. “Be glad it didn’t last, luv,” he said, pausing to tease at one nipple with little cat licks. “Victorians were bloody boring for the most part.” He switched to the other side as the first nipple tightened under his attentions and Xander began to push up into the sensation. “Back then, no gentleman would be so crass as to display his flesh where a lady might see it.” Spike snorted in disdain at the memory of the prudity of an earlier century. “Meant no sunbathing unless you were covered from neck to knees. Not a whole lot of point under those conditions. But I remember strolling in parks on warm spring days and being glad winter was over. So, yeah, I do miss it.” He shrugged indifferently. “Part of the trade off for eternity, luv.”
Xander reached up and brought Spike’s head up to his for another long kiss. Spike didn’t dissuade him, even though he sensed the kiss was in sympathy for a loss that didn’t really trouble the vampire. Sure, it’d be nice to feel the warmth of direct sun again without it being a fatal experience, but he did fine with the warmth of fire, hot water, and especially the heat of willing, human flesh beneath his own cooler body.
Late that morning, Xander reluctantly left the mansion and Spike. Now that finals were over, his days were mostly free and his time his own, but there were some obligations still remaining. After snogging, as Spike called it, for a long, lazy time, Xander’s stomach had insistently demanded attention and could no longer be ignored. Spike had been up and out all night again and had gone back to sleep after Xander had torn himself away to find something to eat. Now, walking across town, he found his good mood fading as he considered whether he should stop at his parents’ house and tell them he was moving out.
Guiltily, he shelved the idea for now, deciding he would leave a note when he went back for the last of his stuff. He was depressingly sure that his parents wouldn’t have even noticed that he hadn’t been there in a week. Despite a lifetime of experience, it still hurt to have their indifference actually confirmed and he decided he didn’t need to deal with it today. His errand was going to be hard enough without that adding to his nervousness.
It was only when he was standing outside the small white house that Xander realized what a stranger to this area he’d become. Not long ago, this street had been almost more familiar than his own. He’d known everyone on the block, knew which houses had the best candy on Halloween, which neighbors didn’t mind if you played in their sprinklers and which ones would yell at you if your ball strayed onto their carefully tended lawn. Now, staring at the For Sale sign hanging in front of the empty house that had once been a second home, Xander couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been on this street.
He hadn’t realized that he had changed all his old habits until this moment. The grocery store, school, the movie theater; this street was on a direct route between his parents’ house and all of those destinations. When had he stopped walking down this street? When had his feet automatically begun avoiding Madison Street and start walking down Cyprus instead?
Turning his back on the empty house, Xander crossed the street to another familiar house and knocked on the door.
“Hi, Mrs. Cooper,” he greeted the woman who answered the door. Mrs. Cooper had lived there for longer than Xander had been alive and knew everything about everyone in the neighborhood, she was bound to know about Mrs. McNally.
“Xander? My word, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen you around here.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly and then just asked flatly: “When did Mrs. McNally move out?”
Mrs. Cooper was a small, plump woman who almost always seemed to be smiling. Her smile died at his question, and she glanced automatically across the street at the white bungalow. “It’s been almost a month now,” she answered gently.
Words failed him and he just stared miserably at her, waiting for her to blame him. He deserved it.
Instead, she nodded her head towards the chairs on the porch. “Sit down, Xander. I’ll get us some lemonade and we’ll talk.”
He did as he was told and Mrs. Cooper came out a minute later with two glasses, the screen door banging closed behind her. Handing him one, she sat down herself, taking a long drink and letting her eyes linger on the empty house across the way.
“She moved out about a month ago,” Mrs. Cooper repeated. “She put the house on the market a few weeks before that, but you know how long it takes to sell houses here.” There was a soft tinkle of ice as she set her glass down on the porch. “She gave up hope after a year, Xander. She just couldn’t take the loneliness anymore. Said she was going to move in with her sister.” She looked at Xander sympathetically. “She made sure everyone on the block had her new address, just in case Jesse ever came back.”
Xander stared across the street at the house that had been his second home for most of his life. He’d come over to try once again to talk to Mrs. McNally. Somehow, he’d hoped to find a way to let her know Jesse was dead. It had never occurred to him that he would find an empty house. That he’d lost touch with her so completely that he didn’t even know she had moved away. He started as Mrs. Cooper’s plump hand patted his.
“Not your fault, Xander. I know you tried but it’s hard on a parent to lose a child. It’s worse when you don’t know what happened or even if they’re dead or alive.”
Her words, intended to be comforting, just twisted the knife. He should have found a way to talk to Jesse’s mom, should have been able to find a way to let her know that Jesse was dead. Shouldn’t have chickened out about talking about vampires. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that he had killed Jesse, he should have at least found a way to tell her Jesse was dead.
He left shortly after that. Mrs. Cooper extracted a promise from Xander to stop by once in awhile, and he gave his promise willingly. Talking to her brought back a lot of good memories and she’d made him laugh with her own memories of he and Jesse as grade schoolers playing on the block. He left with the scrap of paper with Mrs. McNally’s address tucked safely in his pocket, although he wasn’t sure he would ever use it. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to talk to Mrs. McNally about Jesse, he suspected trying to write something would be twice as hard.
“Hey, Oz, how’s it going?” Xander’s second errand was trying to track down Oz. As relieved as he had been that Oz hadn’t been at school all week, he’d promised to talk to Oz about the spell. He couldn’t put it off any longer. Luckily, he found the currently black-haired guitarist in the garage behind his house. Oz’s father sent him back behind the house, telling him Oz was practicing but wouldn’t mind being disturbed. The garage had been converted to a practice room and Xander winced as he approached at the sour notes coming from the room. Apparently Oz was trying to learn a new chord and it wasn’t going well.
“Hey.” Oz looked up at Xander’s knock with an easy smile. He straightened a little and rested his arms on his guitar. “Come on in.”
Xander opened the door all the way and came in, looking around with interest at the full-blown amateur studio. “Nice set-up.”
“Helps keep my parents sane.”
“I didn’t see you around last week,” Xander began hesitantly.
Oz shrugged slightly. “Had a gig.”
“So, do you have to make up the tests you missed or what?” Xander knew he was stalling, but he was also curious, having wished so frequently last week that he could re-schedule finals week to a better time.
“Summer school,” Oz answered dryly. “Have to make up my incompletes.”
That seemed to cover the Oz academia issue. Before Xander could frame the subject he was supposed to be talking about, Oz spoke.
“How’s Spike doing?”
Feeling a warm rush of gratitude - even Giles rarely expressed a friendly interest in the vampire - Xander felt his nervous tension evaporate. “He’s great. Completely healed and full of scorn for how long it takes us mere mortals to heal up.” He lifted his formerly casted arm in explanation.
“Gladness.” And Oz sounded like he meant it.
Xander hesitated, then just asked. “Can I talk to you?” At Oz’s lifted eyebrow, Xander grinned. “I know, we’re already talking. Just needed a lead in.”
“Yeah, well, you remember telling me about the spell Willow did in the hospital?”
Oz nodded, his gaze sharpening and Xander found himself explaining the situation at length: the re-souling spell, the kind of magic it was, the risk to Spike, that Willow and Buffy had lied about it, and the actual outcome with the re-souled Angel banished to a hell dimension. Oz listened to the entire story without commenting, his hands moving absently over the guitar as if drawing comfort from it.
“Willow and I have barely spoken since that day,” Xander finished. “She’s your girlfriend, Oz, and I don’t want to put you in the middle of this or make you choose sides or anything. I don’t want to lose you as a friend but Willow doesn’t seem to even understand why I’m angry and I don’t know if we’re ever going to be able to be friends again.”
Oz looked troubled beneath his unruffled surface and he didn’t say anything for a long time. Xander waited, forcing his body to be still and not betray his nervous tension at the thought of losing another friend.
When Oz finally spoke, his words seem tangential to the issue at first. “The gig we had was for Friday last week. I went to L.A. on Tuesday because I wanted some time to work through some stuff.” After a pause, he continued quietly. “I love Willow, but the person in the hospital room doing that spell scared me. It didn’t feel like Willow anymore.” Xander remembered Oz saying that Willow had been alien, that he would have walked past her on the street without recognizing her.
“I bailed,” Oz admitted. “Finding out my girlfriend could do magic and not just little stuff but huge messing-with-souls magic was seriously freaksome. It was hard for me to even be around her without being wiggy. So, I left.”
Xander didn’t know what to say. Oz was so good at hiding his emotions he hadn’t even realized that Oz could have used someone to talk to himself. “What did you decide?”
“That she dealt with the werewolf so I should be able to handle dating a witch.”
Put that way, it made a lot of sense. Too bad Willow couldn’t accept vampires the way she accepted Oz’s wolf side. “So, are you two good?”
“Yeah. Willow’s trying to find a way to locate Buffy by magic but she’ll talk to Giles about it before doing anything.”
“Are we ok?” Xander asked hesitantly.
“We’re good.” Oz cocked his head thoughtfully. “Maybe between your disapproval and my support, she’ll find a good balance.”
“Maybe.” As relieved as he was that he and Oz were ok, Xander couldn’t find a lot of optimism that Willow would be swayed by his opinions any more. Those days were past.
Spike was sitting on the couch, reading, when Xander returned to the mansion.
“Poncey bugger was too righteous to own a telly,” he complained in greeting, not for the first time.
“Just as well,” Xander answered cheerfully, his good mood largely restored by his conversation with Oz and knowing it was hours before Spike had to go out tonight. “Cable porn could have cost him his soul years ago.”
Spike snorted in appreciation. “Too right. If getting it on with the Slayer was enough to make him lose it, pretty much anything would have done the trick.”
Xander pulled the book out of Spike’s hands and tossed it to the other end of the couch before straddling Spike and regarding him seriously. “Speaking of… it seems to me that someone made me their Claimed human a while back.” He scowled accusingly. “Got to say, there hasn’t been a whole lot of claiming going on around here and I have a problem with that.” He poked Spike in the chest with an emphatic finger. “Someone better start putting out before I start to feel unloved.”
Spike’s jaw actually dropped at the sheer effrontery of that statement. “Oi! Thought you said you did well in your history class? With that kind of re-writing history…”
Xander kissed him hard and stopped the indignant response in its tracks. Lifting his head again, he asked with infinite reasonableness: “You’re the one who’s supposed to be evil, aren’t you? What happened to having you’re evil way with me?”
With a growl, Spike surged to his feet, causing Xander to yelp and cling to Spike’s shoulders to keep from falling. “I’ll show you evil,” Spike growled and carried Xander down to the bedroom. It should have felt ridiculous, since he was larger than Spike, but Spike’s strength made it an effortless trip and Xander used the time to pepper kisses along his vampire’s face and neck.
Spike tossed him to the bed and pounced like the predator he was, gleefully ripping Xander’s shirt open and growling again as he attacked Xander’s nipples. They wrestled together, wriggling across the bed as they yanked and tore at each other’s clothes, seeking the skin that lay below.
Finally nude, Spike pinned Xander’s arms to the bed. “Wanting to be claimed, are you, boy?” he growled mockingly.
Xander’s eyes were black with arousal as he stared up into Spike’s yellow ones. “Yes,” he answered simply and Spike kissed him passionately.
As their tongues dueled, Xander clung to Spike, his hands sliding south until he was cupping the taut buttocks in both hands, spreading his knees and pulling Spike closer against him. They were both hard already after the week of near-abstinence and their hips quickly fell into rhythm, thrusting and sliding their erections together, both too close to climax for either to last long.
Tension built rapidly, their thrusts growing urgent and more rapid, riding the cusp of orgasm together. Spike tore his head free and morphed into game face and Xander willingly tilted his head, exposing the claim mark. Spike slid his fangs into his mark, renewing his Claim. The exquisite sensation of Spike’s teeth piercing his skin, the slight pulling as Spike drank from him, sent Xander over the edge and he erupted into orgasm, his cum spurting out to be joined by Spike’s seed as Spike lifted his head and cried out his own release.
After a long moment, while Xander’s breathing gradually returned to normal, Spike purred into Xander’s ear: “Still feeling unloved, pet?”
Laughing, Spike rolled Xander into a more comfortable position. He had business to take care of tonight, but for now, there was time to just revel in the warmth of his Claimed lying beside him.