bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

5 Days More

TITLE: 5 Days More
RATING: Adult entertainment due to m/m sexual activity
and language.
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction. Conceived in the warped
hive of the BmblBee. She owns none of the
characters or products named and makes no money
from their use.
WARNINGS: Character death. Boys playing with boys.
Vampire/ human contact.

SUMMARY: Xander Harris is dead. Drained by a vampire in
the Longview Cemetery. When his body is discovered
his friends realize that no one has seen or heard from him
in the last five days. Willow comes up with a spell to send
someone back in time to find out how he ended up there
and possibly save his life. Spike is reluctantly recruited.

Thanks to Purpledodah for the wonderful banner.

3:00 am Thursday morning
Xander Harris has two days left to live.

Spike had landed back in the cemetery with very little fan fare.
He started the walk back to Xander's like a homing pigeon.
This had always been his favorite time of night. Late enough that
the rowdy, the drunk and adventurous young were finally off the
streets, back home and tucked in safely, those were the ones
who were loved. Those were the ones who were best not eaten.
Those were the humans who would be missed.

What was left was the homeless, the destitute, the druggies and the
hardcore criminals looking for one more house to rob. One more
victim to rape and terrorize. One more all night convenience store
clerk to kill all in the hopes of pocketing a few more dollars to buy
the edge off a gut wrenching craving.

Those were the ones Spike had on the menu. Fair game. A late supper
of take away if they tried to run. It was strictly business. Nothing
personal. His days of rolling in the innards, of wearing the intestines
like a neck tie, of picking his teeth with a shard of bone, that was over.

That was the type of thing a fledge or a new childe did but it sullied the
dignity of a master vampire. Spike preferred to think of himself in better
terms than that. Terms like benevolent. He was doing society a service.
One that he often thought he should be compensated for, but humanity
seldom acknowledged the stark realities. Bats get credit for eating the
annoying mosquito but isn't his elimination of the vicious predator the
same thing?
Where is his thank you card and bouquet of roses?
Where was his pat on the back?

"Fuckin' ungrateful humans."
Spike muttered under his breath as he turned the corner and trotted
down the short stairway to the basement flat that felt very much like home.
After quickly picking the lock he slipped inside and hastened to drop his
clothes in a path from the door to the bed.

Although his logical mind told him nothing could happen to the boy
just yet, it still gave him a feeling of great relief to see that he had made
it home safely and was now snoring, snug as a bug in a rug.

Naked, Spike slid into the small bed. Xander slept on his side facing
the wall and Spike pressed himself to the boy's back. Instantly, Xander
squirmed, his body seeking contact with the vampire's cool skin.

Spike smiled, rubbing his nose in the back of the soft brown hair
and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Xander's mind slowly let go of the bizarre dream world he was floating
through. Strange, disjointed stories of men with cheese and movie
stars who begged him for his body.
Johnny Depp was so persistent.
Somewhere in all that, he could vaguely recall a disembodied voice
telling him he was going to die and cackling with laughter.

As he came awake, the splitting headache and the presence of a small
dead lemur in his mouth told him he had gotten drunk, too drunk
and now would have to pay.

The memory of what he had done in the back room of the club was
slow in returning but when he rolled over and realized he was not alone,
it all rushed back, flooding his brain with a tsunami of wrong, dirty, bad,
OH YES, memories.
Memories that involved group sex and Spike.
His cock twitched.

Xander blinked and rubbed his fists over his eyes. The only question
he could formulate in his painful head was, 'Whose life am I living?
Cause this sure ain't the Xander Harris of the past 20 years.'

Looking down, Xander stared into the sleeping face of his vampire.
He looked so innocent and surprisingly young. He wondered just how
old Spike had been when Dru literally sucked the life out of him.
It was a curiosity, but to be honest, it wasn't the main question that
was crawling around inside Xander.

No, that conundrum was 'what the fuck was happening? Why was
Spike here?'
As much as Xander had tried not to think about it, the greasy questions
oozed in. Up until three days ago, Spike wouldn't have given him the time
of day, now here he was, plastered to his side and with him almost 24/7.

Finally, unable to find an answer that made sense, Xander came to a
conclusion he could live with.
The vampire was bored and, for now, Xander was his distraction.
Before long, he would lose interest in the tiresome human and move on.
It was an inevitability that Xander found overwhelmingly depressing.
One he would not dwell on.

No, Spike was here now and if his time with him was limited, Xander
resolved to make every minute count. Pack as much life into his
Spike-time as he could. With that promise, Xander leaned over and
kissed the pale small mouth of the murderous cuddle bear by his side.

Spike squinted one eye open and smiled.
"Morning, Love. What time is it?"

"I don't know, around noon or 1 I guess. What time did you get in?"

Spike took a chance that the boy had gotten home and in bed as instructed.
"Round midnight. You were already asleep. Doesn't take much to get
you drunk does it? Baby like you needs to stick to Mother's milk."

Xander frowned at the taunting, laughing vampire.
"I don't drink cause it upsets my stomach. It always....."
Xander blinked, then burped.
"Ooo! It's started already. Oooo. Spike! My stomach!"

Spike stopped laughing and became alarmed at the sight of his boy
holding his arms over his belly. His knees pulled up to his chest and
he rolled about the cramped small bed.
Spike could hear the human's intestines grumbling, as his face turned
red and scrunched up into a pain ridden scowl.

"Xan? Jesus, Xan you o.k? What can I do?"
"You really want to help me?"

Spike's head nodded up and down at the sad, pathetic whine in his
boy's voice.
Using all the effort he could call up, Xander rolled over, facing the

"Can you rub my back for a little while till the cramps go away?"
Immediately, Spike began massaging and running his hands all over
Xander's strong, tan back. He could feel the tension in the muscles
between the shoulder blades.

"That's nice but there is something else that would make me feel a lot better."
"What, Pet? What would make you feel better?"


Xander canted his hips up and with a snicker, let loose with a fart that
would peel paint.

"AAAHHH!! God damn you! That was just fuckin' disgusting!"

Spike's anger quickly morphed to humor. How could he be pissed
off at the twinkle in his boy's eyes and the evil grin on his face?
Instead, he decided to accept the challenge and he dropped to game face.

"Ha, you cheeky little bastard. I don't need to breath. Do your fuckin'
worst. You can't hurt me."

Xander was delighted. It was the double dog dare of vampires. It was
a statement that demanded answer.
He immediately rolled over on top the vicious, blood thirst killer, pinning
his wrists to the bed, his face just inches from the snarling fangs.


"This is not something you want to test me on, Spike."


"I've lived my whole life smelling this. I can hold out longer than you."

BRAK BRA....... sputter...sputter.

Spike squirmed, giving the illusion of being unable to get away.
Both men knew he could end this game at any time, tossing the
human off him like a feather in the wind.
Foul, rancid, toxic wind.

"Ha! You're running out of ammunition! I win, you disgusting little
shit, which is probably what you did. Best check your drawers
for turd, Pet."

Xander frowned. He wasn't used to losing. He hated losing.
Pulling back slightly, Xander loosened his hands.

"Well, I guess you win. I was......I was.......RELOADING!!!""


Spike eyes bugged at the powerful new assault. His game face melted off
as if sprayed with hydrochloric acid leaving only the vulnerable human face
of a struggling, suffering prisoner strapped into a chair in a gas chamber.

"Jesus Fuckin' Christ!!!! UNCLE! UNCLE!! Enough!"

Xander flopped off to the side, releasing his hold on his victim and
sucking his teeth in victory. He tucked his hands under his head
and watched his bed mate leap to his feet and slap his balled up
t-shirt to his face.

Spike stared at his boy in horror, removing the shirt on long enough
to make a threat of his own.

"Don't ask me to EVER eat that arse!"

Xander scowled. Maybe he had lost after all.

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