Paring: S/X with a side of W/G
Summary: Xander is drifting, looking for a purpose in life.
One that finally comes clear when he spots a certain
hairdresser by the name of Mr. William. Xander
immediately begins planning and plotting to win over
this scrumptious man. Of course nothing worth having
ever comes easily.
Genre: Comedy, romance. HAU
Warnings: The usual bad language as well as graphic m/m sexual
activities. Also warned of hints of poultry perversions.
Disclaimer: I Own or have claim on none of the characters or products
used and named in this story and no profit is made.
Feedback: Much appreciated. It encourages me to continue.
Xander woke suddenly, not realizing he had fallen asleep.
His eyes darted around quickly trying to locate a clock.
Even without it, though, he knew it must be morning, as the room
was now bathed in a glorious golden light.
He hadn't intended to spend the night but after all they had done last
evening he had been too exhausted to go home and frankly walking had
been a tad ouchy.
Stretching, he couldn't remember the last time he slept that well.
Rolling over he spotted Spike, still curled up and snoring
softly beside him. Immediately Xander relaxed, scooting back down
and wiggling over till their bodies touched chest to back, legs
"Quit squirmin' else I'll have ta spank yer arse."
Xander moaned and scooched up tighter. Spike chuckled
and wrapped his arms around the larger man in front of him.
"Morning, Love. Why you awake so early?"
Xander rolled over, face to face, and smiled at the sex rumpled
man who had claimed his body and his heart.
"I don't know. I thought I heard something, but I guess not."
Spike reached over Xander's body and grabbed his watch off the
night stand squinting to see it.
"7:00 am. You probably heard Wes's alarm. They always set it
early enough to get in a quicky before they go to work. To early for
us. Go back to sleep."
Xander ran his hands over every inch of Spike skin he could reach.
Spike groaned dramatically.
"Hell! I've created a monster!"
Xander growled and pounced, straddling the sleepy, now laughing man.
"That's right. It's the Xanafuckasaurus monster."
Xander threw his head back and let out a roar. He dropped down
and began licking, nibbling, and tickling the sides and stomach of
his chosen victim as Spike screamed for help and tried to escape.
Just as the monster was about to lay claim to his spoils the sound that
had awakened him rang again. Instantly, both men knew it wasn't
an alarm clock.
Xander sat back up and looked at Spike.
"That was the door bell. Who the hell comes calling at 7 in the morning?
You usually have company this early in the day? If we ignore it will Wes
or Gunn answer it?"
That question was answered by the repetitious "thump thump, thump" of
the headboard against the wall in the next room signaling that, no,
they would not be getting up to invite people in for morning tea.
"Fuck. Wait here, Pet. I'll take care of this. I'll tell them we don't need
any magazines, don't want our souls saved, and already have all the
girl Scout cookies we can eat. Won't take but a minute."
Xander scowled as he watched Spike pull on his jeans and head
out the door, his brow then shot up and he called after him,
"We have cookies? What kind? Can you bring some back?"
Spike chuckled trying to remember if he did have any treats
he could return with. Maybe feed to each other. Maybe
smear all over each other's........
Jerking the door open, the terse condemnation of the intrusion
died on his lips and only one word came out.
Swinging the worn shoulder pack off his back, Angel dropped it at
his feet and then removed his dust covered ball cap, shaking it off.
"Hi, Babe. You gonna invite me in?"
Spike was numb. His stomach twisted in knots and he feared for a
minute that he was going to be sick. All the old memories and
feelings that he thought he had put behind him came rushing back
and the hurt he thought he had moved past suddenly felt as fresh as
the day he packed up and walked away.
As the silence dragged on Angel was beginning to think Spike would
just slam the door in his face and that would be the end.
"Please, Will. I know you're still mad, but please, Baby, if you just
let me come in and talk to me for a few minutes, I promise when
I'm done, if you still want me to leave, I will. After all we meant to
each other, can't I just have ten minutes?"
Praying his voice didn't crack, Spike tried to calm his trembling
body and maintain some semblance of dignity.
"I can't even imagine what you could have to say that I want of hear.
What happened? Giles throw you out? The money all gone?"
Angel hung his head in shame then sadly looked imploringly
into Spike's face.
"I deserve all that and more, but please. Can we just talk? I've
come a long way to see you, Baby."
Against his better judgement, Spike stepped aside and let his
old lover slide past and into his home.
He was ashamed and sickened to realize the old feelings
of love were still there.
"Don't call me that. The name's Spike. Use it."
He stood far enough back that there was no chance of any
physical contact, accidental or not, as he passed through.
Angel stepped inside and looked around. The place was
every bit Spike. Small, clean, neat and sparsely furnished with
quality items. Angel allowed a small smile to appear before
Spike watched him enter. Just like in death, his past life flashed
in front of him. He remembered it all. The good times, the
early years of fun and adventure, the sexual experimentation,
and love. Rainy Sunday mornings in bed. Late Saturday nights
on the dance floor.
He especially missed the long trips they had taken on the bikes.
Riding and hiking through the mountains for days, camping in a tent at
night. Spike used to laugh that Angel loved that blood red Harley
more than he loved Spike. Used to call it Big Red.
Spike still missed that.
He also remembered the bad. The fights, petty arguments, the
dishonesty, the million and one ways Angel violated Spike's trust.
And the infidelity.
Suspected at first, Spike tried turning a blind eye hoping it would end,
thinking it was just a phase and that Angel would tire of it and return home.
Then came the night with Giles. The only man he had ever thought of
as his Father. The man who had raised him. Taken him to school,
making sure he had lunch money. The man he had confided in
when even as a pre-teen he felt different than the other boys.
Giles, who had comforted him and told him it didn't matter.
Made him believe he was every bit as good as anyone else.
Convinced him to be proud of who he was.
That was the thing that hurt the most. He missed his Father.
Spike turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut in an effort
to keep from crying. He took a deep breath and a mental
hold on himself and shook.
'Get a grip! Find out what the fuck he wants and be rid of him.'
Spike slammed the door and followed Angel in.