bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

The Crossing

Title: The Crossing
Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named and
makes no money off anything. Sad state of affairs.
Warnings: Bad language, strong sexual content between M/M.
Second warning: Although I did do a lot of research, this story is not intended to
be an exact historical account so please don't scream and pounce on a detail or
two that may not be entirely accurate.

Credit: The snippets at the tops of the pages are from a web site entitled "Titanic,
A Time Line of Events". Earl Chapman on the Titanic Discussion List originally
published this chronology of events. Chapman modified it slightly in 1997. The
1997 version formed the basis of this timeline.

Summary: AU. It is the spring of 1912 and Xander Harris, who has been living
with relatives in Ireland, is heading home. As a gift of love, he was booked
passage on the maiden voyage of the Titanic with the promise that it will be the
adventure of a lifetime.

Author's note: This story is NOT a retelling of any of the Titanic movies.
It is the tale of one man and one vampire forgotten by history and the destiny they
both find on this doomed crossing.

Spelling checked by the gracious Silk_Labyrinth

As always, thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners and the valued friendship.

When the mystery of love unfolds, confusion confounds.


The cold outside the huge dance hall was all but forgotten as Xander and Spike
sat together at the small table. The combination of the alcohol and the atmosphere
of the hot, sweaty mob of dancing bodies filled the room with a steamy heat that
had Xander wiping his brow, removing his suit coat and draping it over the back
of his chair. Spike had shed his long woolen overcoat earlier, though temperature
fluctuations had little effect on him.

The celebratory party feeling in the huge ballroom reminded him of New Year's Eve
and yet he understood that this was more. New Year's comes around every year.
Predictably. But this was a first. A one and only. It was loud with music, laughter,
shouts, party horns and glasses clinking. It was a once in a lifetime experience that
they, as total strangers, would always share. A bond between them that even family
and friends back in port would never fully comprehend.

To be a part of the maiden voyage of the greatest ship on the face of the earth was
something to tell stories of for years to come. If he never saw any of these people
again, Xander knew, in some small way, he would always be connected to them.

Looking around, he was incredibly thrilled that he had decided to come out again.
Exhilaration had him twitchy and jumpy as a cat. He refused to admit to himself that
part of the flush that brought a pink hue to his cheeks and formed a ring of perspiration
beneath his armpits had anything to do with the handsome, blond man who sat across
from him.

Yet, Xander couldn't help but stare. The blue eyes and sharp facial features were
so enticing that Xander could almost imagine himself reaching across the white starched
tablecloth and touching the man's cheek. It was a mental picture that horrified him.
He couldn't bear the thought of that wonderful face contorting in disgust at the concept
that Xander was 'one of those'. Despite his fumbling and naked groping with Daniel,
Xander, himself, still refused to believe he was 'one of those'.

So, while they sat here, two men getting to know each other in pleasant conversation,
he tried to appear calm and detached though he suspected he was failing miserably.
His voice, when he spoke, sounded foreign, high pitched and breathy. It was as if he
were standing off to the side and observing himself. Xander was shocked to admit
that he was behaving like a silly young schoolgirl, batting his eyes, grinning like a fool
and hanging desperately on every word that rolled off the blond man's tongue.

His arousal was reaching a startling level.

Spike, too, was struggling to maintain. His vampire's senses were extremely acute and he
was unable to ignore the pheromones and masculine scents rolling off his companion.
It was so overwhelming, Spike could nearly taste the boy's need and want on the tip of
his slightly pointed tongue. It was intoxicating. It was maddening.

And it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his human mask in place as his inner
demon screamed to come to the forefront and claim this human with a bite, a bugger and
the taste of blood.

'Not yet.' He told himself. He didn't want this one to be forced. He wanted the boy to
come to him willingly. What he expected as an outcome, he wasn't sure. He hoped for
more than an empty, cold shell to be tossed overboard, but he had no preconceived notion
of what to do with a human. All he knew was that, for now, this was as close to heaven as
he ever thought he could be.

For now, he was no longer lonely.

So they continued to talk. To get to know each other even though the conversation was
secondary to the growing comfort and familiarity they were developing through gestures,
smiles, eye movements and all the subtleties of body language.

They had discussed Spike's life in London with his mother, the various jobs he had held,
the schools he attended and the different places he had called home. He chose, for now
to forego mentioning the details of his gruesome death, his insane sire and the fact that the
life he had described had ended nearly 50 years ago.

Xander told of his less than blissful childhood in America and he explained how he had
come to live in Ireland. Spike was not surprised when Xander told him of his engagement
to the lovely Miss Anya, explaining only that it had not worked out between them and
because of that, and other reasons, Xander and his Irish family thought it best if he returned
to his homeland and tried to find his future there.

Spike read all the untold details of Xander's story in the wave of shame that poured off of
him and the way his eyes diverted when he explained that things just hadn't been meant to
be with Anya. He made the point that it was not her fault but he stopped short of taking the
blame himself. Spike had a pretty good idea that the lovely Miss Anya lacked a certain
body part that Xander required for marital happiness. No, life with Anya was not to be.

Xander placed his hands in his lap. Although he had tried to think of other things, rock
skipping on McTily's pond, counting the apples as they tumbled from a mental tree and
looping a tune through his head, nothing he tried to concentrate on could prevent the
inevitable. Xander's cock was hard as a rock.

He briefly gave in to the wave of sexual need that pooled in his crotch and he discreetly
squeezed his thighs together and pressed the heels of his hands down against the
huge, awkward bulge in the front of his trousers. Both men quietly moaned.
Spike realized that if he didn't get a grip on himself quickly, he would say 'fuck all'
and leap over the table, jerk the boy's trousers down and bugger him as the
orchestra played on. Probably not a good idea.


Both men blinked as they realized they had been staring intently and wordlessly at each
other when the spell was broken by the soft, feminine voice. Xander wiped the
sweat from his forehead and turned to see Yvette standing next to the table frowning
slightly and glancing back and forth between the men, curiously concerned at the
intensity with which they each regarded the other.

"Yes? Oh, Yvette, yes?"

Yvette hesitated. She had walked over here with such determination and resolve, but
now had second thoughts. Clearly there was something going on with these two.
Whatever the business matter was that they were dealing with must not be going well.
Perhaps she should walk away and look for another. She would
not be dissuaded so easily. With a renewed smile, she straightened her back, pushed
out her chest and flipped a long blond curl back over her shoulder.

"Well, Alexander, you have had over two hours to discuss your business matters
with this gentleman. I have waited for you all evening and now I am here to collect
my dance."

Xander was flustered. He did NOT want to leave Spike's side, even for a moment,
yet how could he possibly refuse and still maintain his facade of masculine intent?
His brain scrambled for an excuse, a perfect retort that would send this shark on
her way to circle another table and hapless victim.

"No, um, no, I mean, I can't. I don't know how to dance."

Spike watched with amusement. The hormones these humans were giving off were
repelling and bouncing off each other like two positive magnets pushing each other away.
Unfortunately, the lovely Miss Yvette didn't have a clue. For Spike, this situation was
a godsend. He was dangerously close to losing control and this would give him a
chance to get a grip on himself and shove his demon back into its cage.

"Don't be silly, Xander. Please, dance with the lady. I'll be here when you return and
we can finish our business then."

Before the horrified Xander could speak, Yvette squealed with delight and she tugged
the unwilling dance partner to his feet. Quickly, Xander glanced down and was grateful
for the baggy pants that only marginally concealed the raging hard-on that now
seemed to twist and turn, facing in Spike's direction as a sunflower strains to the sun.

Spike threw his head back and roared with laughter as Yvette pushed Xander into
position. She placed one gloved hand on his shoulder and the other on the back
of his outstretched hand. Then, with a saving, respectable distance between them,
the attractive couple began to clumsily move about the floor.

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