FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
GENRE : Slash
PROMPT: 065. Want,
WORD COUNT: 656 words.
SUMMARY: Xander realizes what’s most important to him.
NOTES: X-Posted to lover100. Sequel to Tears on His Pillow. mysticsoblivion and kargrif, I fixed the damage from the last one!
DISCLAIMER: You recognize them? I don’t own them.
Approaching the crypt, Xander quickly stashed the stake in his bag. The cemetery was relatively quiet; making this easier than it had originally been thought to be. He clutched the old feather pillow, and knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Three times.
“I’m coming. I’m coming.” Spike growled. Xander could hear him mumbling under his breath. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not-Harris.” He looked shocked, and almost saddened. “Wasn’t expecting to see you.” Xander held up the pillow.
“Pierre was looking for you.” Xander said softly. Suddenly, he had the urge to run. Run and get far away from the man who had affected him like this…
“His name is Jacques.” Spike muttered. Xander caught himself staring at Spike’s shirtless torso. He looked as good as he ever had. “Do you want to come in?” He held the crypt door open. Xander walked through, still resisting the urge to run.
“Well. You’ve fixed this place up nice.” The crypt was “Goodwill chic”, with mismatched chairs and an ugly green plaid couch. Yet, it was comfortable and definitely seemed lived in.
“Not our Crate & Barrel, but it works.” Spike said, lounging on the couch. Xander sat down in one of the armchairs, still clutching the pillow. “It’s weird not having you home.” He nibbled on his lower lip.
“I never realized how lucky I was, until I got back into the dating scene.” Was it bad, talking about your dating life with someone you wanted to get back together with? “I can’t find anyone good.” He reached out, and jerked his hand back. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“No.” Spike stared towards the wall. “Not since you.” He sighed. “Do you want a drink?” He opened a bottle of beer and sipped.
“No, I’m okay.” Xander wished he could just say what he wanted to say. “Somehow, I thought this might be easier.”
Spike glanced up, sipping the beer. “What?”
“Since I pushed you away, I have been nothing but miserable.” Xander threw his head back. “I was the moron who threw away the best thing to ever happen to me.” He tightly clutched the pillow. Spike glanced away.
“Love and throw Spike away. He doesn’t have feelings. Not like I’ve been a nut since you threw me out.” He scowled. “Now you want me back.”
“I want the man I love back.” Xander admitted. He stood up. It had been a stupid idea to come. “I think I should leave.” Spike stopped him by throwing an arm out.
“Now, I don’t need a big dramatic exit. What would the neighbors think?” he said. He grabbed Xander’s hand. “Mind if I have a nip?” He ran his lips over the underside of Xander’s wrist.
“Why?” Any other time, Xander would have pulled away but he was intrigued.
“I want to see something.” Xander slowly nodded. He turned his head, refusing to watch Spike bite him. He winced, his wrist momentarily burning as Spike bit him. “Hmm.” He guided Xander to a chair. “Don’t want you passing out on me.” He bit into his own wrist. “Don’t worry. Won’t turn you.” He held his bleeding wrist to Xander’s mouth. Xander recoiled. “It’s okay.” Xander reluctantly tasted the blood. He slammed his head back, bombarded by his senses. He didn’t see any images that particularly stood out. What struck him was emotion.
Love. Agonizing Pain. Hope.
He lifted his head. Spike looked at him.
“I’m willing to give you a second chance, Pet. I just want to take it slow.” Spike glanced down at the ground. “Know I love you though, Pet.”
“God, Spike.” Xander eased the man onto his lap. “I’m never going to let you go again.” He gently nuzzled him, enjoying the scent of Drakkar Noir and Old Spice. Spike twisted around, and pecked his lips. “I am so glad to have you back.”
For the first time, Xander was glad that he had swallowed his pride.