chocgood84 (chocgood84) wrote in bloodclaim,

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Learn to be Lonely Chapter 28

Title: Learn to be Lonely Chapter 28/?
Author: chocgood84
Rating: NC-17 for brief violence and sexual content
Pairing: BtVS Spike/Xander
Author’s Note: Yes, I am aware that the timeline is a little screwed up and that Giles didn’t own the Magic Box until after Adam and after Dawn arrived. But in my reality, who’s Dawn? Adam what? Also, a huge spanking thanks to kitty_poker1 for still agreeing to be my official L2BL beta, even after so much time has passed.
Disclaimer: These character’s aren’t mine, never were; I don’t get any profit for this hobby, so don’t sue – Thanks.
Warning: Brief violence, nudity, and hetero and homo sexual content and situations. And some h0t man-luvin.
This can also be found in my LJ Memories, as well as on my revamped website: Forget It.

Learn to be Lonely

The town of Sunnydale is situated in a geographical vacuum, sleeping cozily on the coast of the Pacific and nestled perfectly between the La Granadas to the north, desert to the west and giant redwood forests leading into the foothills and canyons to the southeast. Too far north from Los Angeles to be a suburb, and too far south of Napa to be a destination town, a hellmouth couldn’t have picked a better place to call home – just the right size population to victimize and just few enough visitors to spread the word. This was where Xander had grown up.

As they turned off Sunnydale Way and headed east out of town toward the foothills, clouds began spreading in like cracked plaster over the pre-dawn sky. Spike punched the accelerator of the rented Jeep Cherokee, shooting the speedometer past 90, and the SUV lurched.

"What is it?" Xander asked, noting Spike's sudden urgency.

"Storm coming in," Spike answered, not taking his eyes off the road as they careened around a sharp bend in the road, leading them into the encroaching forest. In a flash of time, they were sailing through a sea of evergreen that drowned out the approaching storm-clad dawn. Spike never eased off the accelerator even as one steep turn splashed into another.

“Where did he say to – there it is.” He stamped on the brake with his left foot, never taking his right off the gas, and jerked the wheel hard to the right. The jeep responded with only a minor fishtail and spray of gravel as they launched off the paved highway leading towards the mountains and onto a one lane gravel road snaking into a much denser part of the forest.

“Uh, Spike?” Xander mumbled from the passenger seat, eyes squinted and body folded into a seated fetus position. “Human in the car!” he squeaked, peeking his eyes open for a moment and regretting it. “Human in the car!”

“Relax, Xan,” Spike chuckled. “I’ll get you there in one piece.”

“Will that piece be alive?” he asked. “Naturally?”

“I make no promises, pet.”

Another ten minutes of the most uncomfortable, nauseating, and prayer-filled ride of his life, and Xander felt the SUV slowing down.

Finally comfortable enough to open his eyes, he gasped as the Cherokee rounded a final bend and came into a tight clearing in the blackest part of the forest.

Most of the clearing was occupied by a massive wood, steel, and glass complex nestled literally against the trees so that, looking up, they could find little or no sky peering down at them through the crush of green. The jeep startled to a stop, slipping slightly against the gravel, parked between two towering redwood trees. There was no garage to be seen, and really, no driveway or parking. Only gravel spread out about a hundred yards in front of the complex.

“This looks like the place,” Spike confirmed, peering through the windshield towards the structure.

Towering three stories above the forest floor, the ultra modern complex somehow fit into its surroundings. Built, it seemed, to look like large steel and glass boxes stacked beside and atop each other, it embraced the trees surrounding it. Most of the plate glass windows in the building were lit up, a beacon of light in the dark of the trees. Expansive, the main floor appeared to be no less than a couple thousand square feet.

In front of them lay the entrance, massive steel doors with rivets the size of Xander’s fist and set squarely into a mahogany frame. There was something about the contrast of this building’s stark coldness – its hard lines and extremely smooth finishes – set against the environment that complimented both itself and its surroundings. It was, undeniably, the coolest home Xander had ever laid eyes on.

“When he said ‘buried in the forest,’” Xander noted, “I didn’t think he actually meant, you know, buried in the forest.”

“Well, come on then,” Spike insisted. “All the lights are on; he’s probably waiting for us.”

A few stray drops of rain filtered down through the trees as the wind picked up, rustling the branches and whistling around them. Without another word, they retrieved their few pieces of luggage from the cargo hold in the back and walked the few yards to the giant steel doors. As they approached, one of the doors swung inward, and in the silhouette of the light inside, a familiar form stood with one hand on his hip and the other dangling a cigarette.

“Hey, kids!” Tuna called, tossing the cigarette into a small square box next to the front door and reaching out for them. “I was hoping you’d make it before the storm hit!”

“It is so good to see you!” Xander beamed, dropping his bags and hugging the demon tight. “I missed you!”

“And what about you, Billy – I mean, Spike?” Tuna asked with a wink and a smile, pulling the vampire in for a hug of his own. “Did ya miss me? You know you did!”

“Oi,” Spike huffed, smiling, nonetheless.

“Alright, let’s get you in here out of that rain! I’ll give you a tour of Chez Poisson.” Tuna giggled and began humming a familiar tune from The Little Mermaid.

“It’s hardly raining,” Xander noted as they crossed the threshold. Before the words were even off his lips, a sudden faucet had been turned on and the entire forest began weeping as waves of rain sliced through the dense cover all at once, pinging off of the glass and steel. Xander looked at Spike, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“Told ya,” Tuna smiled and turned his back, walking out of the foyer and into the house. “Leave your bags here, and I’ll give you the grand tour. Remember to keep your hands and feet inside the cart at all times, and your cocks in your pants unless you intend to use them.”

Spike wiggled his eyebrow at Xander who in turn licked his lips seductively. Laughing softly, the vampire took him by the hand and they trailed after Tuna, who was calling them from the next room.

“And this,” Tuna explained as they reached the top of the stairs in the uppermost section of the complex, gesturing with a wide sweep of his hand, “will be your sweet suite. We’ll just go ahead and call it the lovers’ lair. Hmm… No, too easy. The fucker’s flat? I don’t know, I’ll come up with something. For now, this is where you’ll be sleeping and screwing.”

Xander’s face was a perfect imitation of a tomato. “Uh…thanks?”

“Thank Lucifer,” Spike mumbled, looking longingly toward the bed. “I thought we’d never get off that damn tour.”

“No problem, darling.” Tuna winked. “Bathroom is through those doors over there, and I showed you where the kitchen and everything is.”

The house was a maze. At once open and spacious while still built with levels and layers of rooms that for at least a while would need a map to navigate. Every room in the house had a full view of the forest surrounding them, and this room, being the crown of the house, had several ten by ten foot sections of the ceiling inlaid with expansive skylights.

“And Spike,” he added, “don’t look so spooked by the windows. Don’t get much sunlight this deep into the forest, and even if we do for some strange reason, all the glass this house was built out of is special. It’s nympho-tempered.” At Spike and Xander’s raised eyebrows, Tuna thought for a moment about that. “I’m sorry, I mean necro-tempered. Anyway, it just means in here the sunlight won’t light you on fire.”

“How…” Xander’s question trailed off, as he looked around the room, more inviting and more luxurious than any hotel he’d seen in the modern architectural magazines.

“I’m not sure. They mix some kind of potion into the glass or something.” Tuna shrugged.

“No, I mean how can you afford – er, this is a pretty expensive place, Tuna,” Xander stammered.

“Well, a lady never talks about money,” Tuna said, feigning offense. “But seriously, folks. Let’s just say gay demon divorce laws are pretty strict. I got this house, all of his American funds, and a boat. I’ve never actually seen the boat but I’m told it’s somewhere down at the harbor.”

“Wait, what?” Spike looked confused.

And very, very, sleepy, Xander thought to himself.

“Oh, I played house for about twenty years with a lawyer from LA. He’s a douchebag. He worked for this massively wackadoodle firm,” Tuna explained. “Anyway, he rolled in the dough. This was a summer home. And now it’s mine. Has been for a few years now.”

“I’m kind of surprised. I thought you’d live closer to the club,” Xander wondered.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Tuna shook his head, laughing silently. “Are you over- or under-medicated?”

“Mate, I’ve been asking that for years now,” Spike chimed in, kissing Xander on the cheek even as the human glared at him.

“Sunnydale is where I work, and I love my job, I do. But you couldn’t pay me enough to live actually on the hellmouth. I may have an extra-long shelf life, but I’m not stupid.”

“Anyhooo,” he singsonged, “I’ll leave you to your shenanigans. I’m beat from work, and I’m sure you two are tired from your trip.” And with that, he spun on his heels and made his way down the stairs. A moment later, they heard the double steel doors at the bottom clunk shut behind him.

Spike glanced longingly from the bed to Xander and back again. “You wanna-”

“God, yes!” Xander yelped.

And in moments they were both stark naked, tangled in the silky-soft black sheets of the king sized bed, warm body pressed tightly against cold, asleep.

Xander was awoken by flashbulbs exploding in his eyes and the sound of the mountains falling down on top of him.

Eyes shut tight against the bright flash of the storm, he instinctively rolled over to snuggle against Spike. Instead he got a mouth full of pillow and an arm full of cold blankets. “Spike?” he whispered into the suddenly too-dark room, sitting up and struggling to make his eyes adjust. It can’t be night already!

The soft-hard rhythmic drumbeat of rain against the skylights above him seemed to reverberate throughout the room, and he shivered.

“Spike, where are you?” he asked, his voice still hushed. He threw back the bedclothes and swung his feet off the bed and onto the freezing hardwood floor.

“Spike, are you here?” he asked a little louder, standing on legs wobbly from the pitch blackness.

He was suddenly blinded by another brilliant Kodak flash of lightening, and in the microsecond of splendid clarity, he saw Spike on the other side of the room. Naked, leaning with his palms and forehead pressed flat against the glass wall, his white back turned towards Xander. As the earth crashed and crumbled around them again, Xander hesitantly toed his way through the dark towards the vampire, trying to remember the layout of the room as best he could.

Several minutes passed as he crossed the large room, with only the rain against the walls around them and the windows above them to break the eerie silence and calm of the space. When, finally, he could feel Spike was only inches away and he reached out, haltingly, cautiously, his fingertips only grazing the smooth skin of Spike’s bare shoulder. When there was no response, the fleeting touch became a hard grasp, anchoring the two together. “Spike…?”

“I’m here, love,” the vampire muttered, unmoving.

“What’s…what is it?” Xander asked, voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything?” Such pity in that question. Such unaccustomed misery. “Everything that isn’t you.”

“What do you mean?” Xander spread his arms around him, hugging him tight from behind and laying his chin on Spike’s shoulder.

“I mean,” the vampire sighed, like he couldn’t find the right words, “this place. This place, Xander…”

“I know.” And he did. He could feel it around them, pressing against them like pressure and pins. “I know, baby.”

“Xander?” Xander could hear the weakness, could almost smell the tears that wanted to come, could almost feel the scream that threatened to escape.

“Yeah, Spike?”

“Don’t think we’re going to make it…”

“Who knows?” Xander mumbled, forcing himself to be honest. “I know I’m damn well going to try. We only just found each other.”

“I can’t lose you too, Xan,” and there it was: a silent sniffle, a soft slope to the shoulders, a heavy, unneeded breath. Spike’s entire body softened against his touch. “I won’t.”

“Then you won’t,” he breathed against Spike’s ear. Kissed it softly, hugging him tighter, harder, closer. “Then you won’t,” he repeated.

“Love you,” so softly, so silently Xander wasn’t sure he’d even really heard it.

“Love you, Spike,” he sighed against the shoulders he held. “Love you so fucking much.”

With no more words needed, the touch was sufficient. With his head poised on Spike’ shoulder, his cheek against the vampire’s and his arms locked around his chest, they watched the blackness of the forest in the storm, occasionally blinded by flashes or shaken by thunder that made the floor beneath them and the walls against which they leaned quiver. Sunset – true sunset – would come soon, and with it maybe they would find the strength they needed to unlock themselves from their embrace.

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