kimalis (kimalis) wrote in bloodclaim,
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kimalis
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FIC: Family Bonds Chapter 13 WIP

Title: Family Bonds
Pairing: Spander
Rating: ADULT
Summary: After his relationship with Anya fizzles out Xander and Spike become lovers. Xander’s insecurities lead him to seek help from Tara. She discovers a secret from Xander’s past.
Notes: AU beginning in S6. No Dawn, Buffy didn’t die, and Season 6 Spuffy? Eewww no.
Feedback and con crit appreciated and lusted for
Disclaimer: not mine, all belongs Joss and Co. Damn them. And bless them.

Other chapters are here

 CHAPTER 13

Xander tossed the keys and the fresh herb paste on the table and pointed to the refrigerator. “More blood Bleachie. I’m going to have a shower then we’ll organise another lot of Rose’s goop for your gut there.”

“Pretty sure I can reach my own stomach Harris.”

A small frown wrinkled Xander’s brow. “Right, of course you can.” Xander headed off to the bathroom, leaving Spike alone in the kitchen. He collected fresh sweatpants and a T shirt from the drawers, then after some thought, left another set on the bed for Spike.

 

In the bathroom, Xander shaved, then stepped into a pounding spray of hot water. He tilted into the water, letting the heat soothe and clear his head. He’d had an unusual week and a strange twenty four hours. His normal sleep pattern had been interrupted and he’d been feeling thick and slow. Xander let the water run over him as he took stock of himself.

It was such a short time ago he’d been standing in this room, fresh from a week away, and wondering if Spike would  be interested in someone like him. Problem solved. Spike was very interested. Why? He had no idea and ‘gift horse’ sprang to mind very quickly. That was something that could be dealt with later. At the same time he’d been looking forward to catching up with his friends. New problem. He really had no desire to catch up with Buffy in the near future and he didn’t yet know how he was going to act with Spike in front of Willow and Tara. Damn it, he didn’t know how he was going to act with Spike in five minutes time.

Why was Spike here? Because he’d needed help. And the last thing he’d said? I can reach my own stomach. So where did Xander stand now? If Spike didn’t need him would he leave? His injuries were healed, all but that one, so no reason to stay. What did Xander want anyway? Certainly he wasn’t ready for Spike to be moving in, they’d only been on decent speaking terms for one day. But it had been a hell of a day and Xander wasn’t quite ready for it to end yet.

 He recalled the time they’d spent earlier in front of the TV, Spike’s English football in the background. It had been a nice, lazy hour just kissing and touching but Xander had been in a daze and it had passed so quickly. He dwelt on the kiss they’d shared a little later that led them to going out. That one had nearly been the undoing of his vow to wait until Spike was healed and Spike’s personal promise not to jump in too quickly. Flashes of images and feelings assaulted his mind and he felt himself growing hard. Spike’s cool soft lips, the firm planes of his back and chest, the long strong, muscles of his legs, the taste of his skin, all like nothing Xander could have imagined.

Xander wrapped his hand around the length of his now hardened shaft and began a firm, fast stroke. If felt good but something was off. The warmth of his own hand was clashing with the memories of Spike’s cool skin. Xander let go of himself and pressed his hand against the cold tiles of the shower. A shudder wracked his body as he again gripped his cock with a now cool hand. Yes, better. He let his mind wander through the growing collection of images as his hand worked faster. It wouldn’t be long, couldn’t be long until this was Spike’s hand and he wouldn’t need to draw on the memories. He felt his body tensing and tightened his grip, increasing his pace. Spike kissing him. Spike touching him. Spike wanting him. Spike hard for him. That’s not the remote you can feel. Xander bit back a cry as he came, the warm jets washed away by the shower.

 
 

Spike watched Xander walk away and shut the bathroom door. He’d done something wrong. Xander had not looked happy. Spike thought back. The only thing he’d said was he could treat his injury himself. He would have thought Xander would be pleased he was getting better. That would mean they didn’t have to be so careful and if the boy was ready, they could progress from kisses- very good kisses and not to be scoffed at- to something more, anything more, just more. So why the frown? He was upset that Spike was looking after himself. Did that make Xander feel useless? Had he maybe been feeling like he was playing an important role having Spike here to help? There. Spike connected. If he could tend his own injuries then why was he here? Xander was pissed off cause he thought Spike would be leaving now. It gave him a good feeling to know that was what Xander was angry over. Not good that Xander was upset, but good that it was all about him. Good for the ego. So what to do about it?

Yes, he could tend this wound himself. But that was only one part of him being here. This wound was painful. And for someone who had spent a great deal of time both and inflicting and enduring pain, that was saying something. It burned, it stung, it ached and throbbed. Choose a kind of pain and it was there at some stage. But not just the wound itself. Deep inside too and all the areas around it. When Spike tried to straighten up after sitting down, the stabbing pains ripped through the whole of his side and made his head spin. He had more trouble getting in and out of chairs than he let on. If he went back to this crypt he would be stuck upstairs, sleeping on a slab or some old piece of furniture, definitely not a warm soft bed. His clothes, pretty much everything he needed were down the ladder and there was no way known he was going to be able to get himself up and down that thing.

He was staying here as long as he needed and would have to make Xander aware of that. He had some concerns of his own too. He wasn’t pleased about kicking Xander out of his own bed for a second night. He understood Xander’s reluctance to share, Spike’s side hurt enough when he moved, if he got a stray arm or leg in it, the pain would be excruciating and the poorly healing wound would likely open up again. Now that he had only the one bad spot left, there was no reason he couldn’t swap with Xander and take the couch. It was plenty comfortable and with a couple of blankets and pillows, Spike was sure he’d sleep quite well. He’d have to convince Xander of that though and he doubted he would be able to. Xander seemed to have made it his mission to care for Spike.

Obviously it was not a secret to either of them any longer that there were feelings developing between them. The question of why still popped into his head from time to time. Why was he, a master having these feelings for a human? Spike decided to shut that one down straightaway. He didn’t know and didn’t care. Everything he had experienced with Xander so far had been great, so, as he had done in the past, Spike decided to follow his heart. But that led him to the next question. What was it that made the boy change his anti-demon stance? Spike wasn’t sure that he even cared why. His acute senses were able to pick up subtle fluctuations in human body chemistry and he was not able to detect anything insincere in Xander. He would just accept it for what it was right now. And right now it was getting interesting. They were becoming more at ease with each other, more like mates and that was a good place to be starting from. Spike well knew from experience that sex could be great without even liking the other person.  This time it would be different, there would be something solid behind the passion.  Already it was different. Spike had never been kissed like that by anyone, and certainly someone who was just out for a bit of gratification wouldn’t be putting their heart into it like that.

Spike set to work treating his side and considered the evening he’d had. He’d basically taken a back seat and let Xander steer events. And Spike couldn’t say he was disappointed with Xander’s driving. Surprised, definitely yes. He’d not expected Xander to be so forward. Actually he’d not had many preconceptions at all. Xander was a work in progress. The lad was building himself up, finding his adult feet. New job, new clothes, new attitude. Spike hoped he was right when he guessed Xander would have more surprises in store.

He heard the shower turn off and quickly, before Xander returned, he located the remote, flipped through the channels, finally settling on an old episode of Fawlty Towers, then stashed the remote back its hiding place. No point putting himself through the torture of American television. Not unless the soaps were on. Not long after, Xander reappeared in the kitchen looking decidedly more relaxed; fresh clothes, damp hair, slightly flushed. Spike breathed in the scent of soaps and shampoos, hot water and-, oh. No wonder he was looking relaxed. Spike felt a stirring in his own groin. Again. Damn, no chance of relieving that at the moment, not without some significant agony and blood loss.

Spike smirked at him. “Feeling better now mate?”

Xander took a minute to register the expression on Spike’s face, then blushed. “Oh, you’re kidding me. Do I have no privacy at all?”

“Little to none, if you have a vampire in your house.”

Xander looked at him with a mix of confusion and relief. “I kinda thought you might not be here when I came out.”

“Yeah I guessed that. But here I am.”

“You don’t need me to help you anymore, I thought-”

“I can take care of this myself.” Spike told him indicating his freshly bandaged side. “But I still need your help. I can’t go home yet, can’t manage the ladder and the upstairs isn’t set up well enough to live in.”

“You’re staying?”

“Unless you want to move into my crypt, carry me down the ladder and be my nursemaid till this is healed?”

“You’re staying!” Xander told him with a grin.

“For now.” Spike headed for the bathroom. “Gonna go have a quick tub myself, then you and me, we have some details to sort out.”

 

Xander fiddled around in the kitchen, cleaning up the bandages, packing the meds from Rose into the refrigerator and washing up the odds and ends of the day’s snacks. He’d just finished the last of a coffee when Spike came back out. A slow grin spread over his face. He’d not ever seen Spike’s hair without the tons of gel he applied daily. As it was naturally, Spike’s hair fell in gentle, soft-looking curls.

He smiled and waggled a finger at Spike’ hair. “Very cute.”

“Piss off Harris, we masters are not cute.”

“Masters are also not good house guests talking to the host like that.”

Spike held up a finger. “House guest on one condition though mate.”

“What? You’re putting conditions on staying in my house, as my guest. Conditions?” Xander shook his head. “Is this some kind of crazy vampire reasoning?”

“No, just being fair. I take the couch tonight, you get your bed back.”

“Oh, no, no no. No. The end.” Xander went into the living room and lay down on the couch, spreading himself out to take up the full length and width.

“You know Harris, you play a mean game of pool, you’re a handsome devil and you’re a fucking brilliant kisser but sometimes mate, you’re daft bugger.” Spike laughed and walked into the living room, laying down on the second, identical couch. “Lay on that one all you like Harris, I’m quite comfy over here. Look, funny program’s on telly.”

Xander shook his head and groaned at his own lack of foresight. “You can’t distract me with talk of TV, Bleachie. There’s no way I’m going to let you sleep-.” Xander sat up pointing at the TV and shouted, “What on earth are you making me watch now? This isn’t television. This is British.”

“Classic British comedy. You’ll like this one. Look Manuel thinks it’s a Siberian hamster but it’s a rat and the Health Inspec-.”

“This is not comedy. I’ve seen comedy. This is not what comedy looks like.” Xander climbed off the couch and stripped the cushions away. “What have you done with my remote? This is so not cool. You don’t go into a man’s house and mess with his Saturday night TV viewing.” Xander stopped and pointed at Spike. “And no, I am not distracted. You are not sleeping there. And we are not watching your choice anymore.” He resumed his search, unzipping covers, shoving his hands down the back and looking under the couch itself. All fruitless, bar a handful of coins and some candy wrappers.

Spike, meanwhile, was trying hard not to laugh. Not to spare Xander’s feelings, but to spare himself the pain of the stress on his abdomen. “Harris, give it up. You are not going to find that machine until I am good and ready for you to find it.” Spike sat up, held his arm out and waved his fingers, beckoning Xander over. “Now, c’mere.”

“There? There’s not such a good idea if you remember. There leads to the dark side,” he said as he began rebuilding the couch.

 “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. I do have some self control you know.” Xander stared at him with an incredulous expression. “Oh sod it, how about you just come and lie here and keep me warm then while we watch telly for a bit. You’re like a big hot coal you are.”

“Alright, but no more of your devious vampire ways, I’m on to you now mister.” Xander grabbed the blankets, arranged the pile of decorator cushions and lay down against the back of the couch his head on the armrest. “I don’t want to hurt you though.”

Spike lay down and pushed himself back against Xander’s body, wrapping both the long warm arms around himself and dropping his head back on Xander’s shoulder. “Now, you stay right there Harris and no one gets hurt.”

“Still one problem though Bleachie. Your taste in TV pretty much sucks.”

“Nah, you’re gonna love it. I plan to educate you mate. No more of that mass produced rubbish you colonials watch. You liked that football match didn’t you?”

“I liked that game because for half of it you had your tongue down my throat and your hand up my T-shirt. But I guess if that’s how you plan to teach me the ways of the BBC, who am I to complain? I can make the sacrifice. Learn me good, vamp.”

Spike chuckled then groaned. “Don’t make me laugh Harris, hurts too much.”

They both lay back and relaxed. Spike soaking up Xander’s warmth behind and around him and Xander enjoying the feel and heavy weight of Spike’s hard, lean body under his hands and pressing back into him. Xander tried his hardest to follow the show Spike had chosen but even after a few different episodes, British humour was still apparently lost on him. Spike seemed to be enjoying it, even though he had to hold back from laughing at his favourite scenes. Xander was content to watch and smile at Spike acting in such a laidback and unguarded way.  It was an unfamiliar Spike and one that Xander was glad he had the opportunity to see. It was a good feeling, Xander knew Spike would be unlikely to show this side of himself to anyone else. It was something just for him. He pressed his lips to Spike’s forehead and tightened his arms around his chest. After a sleepless night and a day of interrupted naps, a content Xander soon drifted off.

 

Spike registered the slacking of Xander’s grip around him and the deeper slower breathing and knew the boy was asleep. Xander had left the pile of blankets over the back of the couch and Spike grabbed the largest, spreading it out to cover both of them. The pain in his side had worsened a little and he wasn’t going to be able to sit up again without a bit of help, but there was no way he would wake Xander just for that.  Better to let him sleep; the couch was comfortable enough and besides, if Spike were to be honest with himself, it was more that he’d rather not give up this chance to curl up and sleep with Xander holding him. That was what he missed the most, having been on his own for so long. He wasn’t worried so much about Xander accidentally bumping him; it wasn’t like a bed where there was plenty of room to be rolling about. Spike had his arms and legs entwined with Xander’s and even though he was injured, he was still considerably stronger. Xander would not be moving until Spike was ready for him to let go.      

Taking care not to disturb Xander, Spike reached into the side of the boxers he was wearing and took out the remote. Not usually one for underwear, Spike had decided that it was only polite seeing as he was wearing borrowed sweatpants and Xander had left them out with the fresh clothes. He turned off the television, stashed the remote under the edge of the couch and settled himself back against Xander. Spike sighed. He could very easily get used to this. It wasn’t long before he too was lulled into sleep by the combination of the rhythmic breathing and warmth of the body behind him and the sedative in the fresh batch of Rose’s medication.

TBC

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