JenLea (bohofemm) wrote in bloodclaim,
JenLea
bohofemm
bloodclaim

This Kiss: Prt 1/1

Title : This Kiss
AUTHOR: bohofemm
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Spike/Xander
GENRE : Slash
TABLE: B
PROMPT: 013. Kisses
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 380 words roughly.
SUMMARY: Spike and Xander reminisce about their first kiss twenty years later.
WARNINGS: None.
NOTES: X-Posted to lover100 Schmoop all the way!
DISCLAIMER: You recognize them? I don’t own them.

“Don’t you know how bad a kisser you were?” Xander murmured, pecking his partner’s lips. “You may not remember but I do.” Spike scoffed.

“I was not.” He muttered, leaning into Xander’s arms. “”Just inexperienced with humans.” Xander laughed.

“Excuses…excuses.” he muttered, trailing kisses down Spike’s neck. “You just are…no…were… a bad kisser.” He laughed. Spike scowled. “Oh Poor vampire.”

“Lucky I love you, Nummy Treat.” he murmured, running his teeth over Xander’s shoulder. He nipped, lapping up the drops of blood. “You’re yummy.”

“You pinned me against an oak tree.” Xander reminisced. “And slobbered all over me. I Personally found you disgusting. Then, I went home, cursing you and your blood breath.”

“ ‘Til you showed up at my crypt, in the pouring rain, rambling. Remember what you said?”

Love…pure clean love…comes once in a lifetime. Some people search and search, but never find that special someone. I’ve kissed Princess after Princess, but I never thought I would kiss a prince. Yet…I found that pure clean love…with YOU.

“Then, I…” Xander tilted Spike’s head back. “And this happened.” He allowed his lips to melt against Spike’s parted lips.

“Twenty years later.” Spike gently ran his fingers through Xander’s graying hair. “Your kiss still manages to practically make my undead heart beat.” He sighed, leaning back onto Xander.

Spike looked just as good now, as he had back in Sunnydale. His bleach blonde hair showed no signs of gray. His skin was firm and unwrinkled. His muscular frame showed no sign of deteriorating.

The Skin around Xander’s eyes was wrinkled and loose. His tumultuous thirty-nine years spread plainly on his face. He still wore the black leather eye patch, refusing to get a glass eye. He claimed it was a memorial to those lost “In the destruction of Sunnydale”. His brown locks were starting to soften with gray, and his deep eyes spoke to the pain of being one of the last ones left.

As Spike felt Xander’s arms close tightly around him, he couldn’t help but realize how lucky he was. Some men weren’t half as blessed…

“Ever wonder how you got so lucky?” Spike asked. Xander shook his head,

“I was blessed.”

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