This is a Standalone Story that can also be read as part of Xander on the Menu.
Title: Dream: Spike Slash Xander
Pairing: Spike/Xander Giles/Books
Disclaimer: Joss made Spike/Xander and didn't give them to me, which makes Spike/Xander happy because if *I* owned them they'd get no rest.
Warnings: Dream Logic Abounds and Giles does somthing that might seem icky
Summary: Spike, Giles and Xander have a discussion of "right" and "wrong" and also there's a castle.
Right before this dream, Spike told Xander about how much Drusilla enjoyed getting her clothes dirty.
Dream: Spike Slash Xander
“I am ever so dirty,” Drusilla was telling him. She stood on the turret dressed in an exquisite burgundy overdress. Xander was not surprised to see that she was a princess with two tell-tale spots on the fabric where she had been kneeling in the mud. “By my faith, ‘tis quite all right, I’m sure,” Xander said, walking passed her. They were finished stargazing and he was eager to find Sir Spike. “Oh please, don’t bother,” he said politely as she leaned in to bite his neck. “It’s not that kind of dream.”
He followed the sound of raucous voices and stepped inside the feasting hall, where the knights were still cracking their tankards and some squires were playing at the bowls. The queen and her ladies had only just finished gathering the used trenchers and had stopped to tease one blushing minstrel, (the second one was trying to hide behind a tapestry.) There on the Espresso-Pump-couch he was overjoyed to see himself sitting beside Spike, but a little alarmed to see all his armor was gone, and he had nothing but a poet shirt and breeches to protect him from Sir Spike’s roaming hands. His hair was longer, curlier, (but still proper) and Spike, a half-head taller than he, insisted on nuzzling his angled, proper nose into said hair every so often. They sat side-by-very-close-side, legs touching, Spike’s arm casually draped around his shoulders, Xander’s hand with a death-grip on his former sponsor’s leg. Xander-at-the-door grinned sheepishly for the sake of the newly made knight sitting on the Espresso-Pump-couch (he was in no way surprised to see it was the exact same one from his “Giles sings ‘Behind Blue Eyes’ to me after the club closes dream.”) He knew the young knight was filled with relief and joy and trepidation…..relief and joy because his position in the room announced to all that his former sponsor, the notorious Sir Spike Count of Pratt, was staking his claim now that his squire was a Knight and an Equal….. trepidation since, obviously, he found himself sitting thigh-to-thigh with the legendary deviant Count of Pratt, who no longer considered him a hands-off-squire but rather a anything-now-goes Equal.
Giles was there, also, and young Sir Alexander was in no way surprised to see how well he fit in wearing his usual librarian attire, and he was discussing, as usual, a book. Sir Spike interrupted to announce, “On the morrow we are off to church. We shall put on all our best clothes and walk to the abbey, where we shall all sit in pews until the sanctuary is quite crowded, and we shall sit there for hours without the benefit of air conditioning. I promise it shall be most unpleasant.”
“Why then go at all?” Alexander inquired.
“We must go to church. It is where the holy things are. It is there where they tell us what is right and wrong.”
“Do you listen?” he asked his rakehell daringly, who leaned in to touch his head, grinning in approval.
“My good Sir Knight,” he purred, his grin growing more wicked all the time, “If it were not for they who tell me what is right, how would I know how to do the wrong?”
Xander glowed, inordinately proud of himself for amusing the older man. “I would think such a ….such a scoundrel as yourself would simply trust your instincts.”
The smile remained, but the purr became something closer to a growl, and Xander found himself pulling back suddenly…..surely the man who had been his teacher, the man who had (praise the saints) just staked his claim the very day Alexander became a knight, verily he did not mean to kiss him here in the feasting hall?
“For God’s sakes quit tormenting the boy, by the rood, man,” Giles was scolding, and Spike turned to him and hissed at the hated language. Xander found himself rubbing the knee beneath his hand, hoping to spare Rupert Spike’s wrath; it was important to him that the men not quarrel.
“Sir Alexander, make no mistake,” Giles was saying. “The answers are not to be found in church, they are to be found in books.”
“Yet it is impossible to read in dreams,” Spike snapped back, then turned back to Alexander, grinning again, regaining his conspirator’s tone. “Rupert is certainly the expert on what is ‘right.’ The queen weans he is quite married to those books, you know.”
“If I may beg to differ, my dear Count,” Xander said boldly, “Rupert is not the expert on right and wrong, he is the expert on correct and incorrect.”
“They are quite the same thing!” the librarian protested.
“I'faith, but they are not the same,” the young knight said steadily, (as best he could, Spike’s thumb stroking the back of his neck was becoming most distracting.) “For there is a difference in what is right and what is morally correct. There is an incorrect way to play at the bowls, and there is an immoral way to cheat your fellow man. Come now, don’t be angry….” He said gently, hoping to dissuade the standing man from his irritation – it was important that he retain Rupert’s approval, so when the librarian handed him the large book he took it eagerly.
“What do you think of this, then?” the man was asking him, and Xander arranged the leather-bound volume on his lap so that Spike could look at the single picture, also.
The picture was of a nude woman’s torso. Xander realized his predicament instantly….was he to answer “I find this very interesting,” thus pleasing Rupert, or “I find this of no interest,” to please the man stroking his neck with knowing fingertips?
“I find this most improper” he squeaked, and was not surprised when the two worldly men laughed at his innocence, and left him alone.
“Ivory,” Spike was saying, placing his thumb firmly between the breasts of the nude woman, and Xander realized he was holding the carved dagger (wait, was it going to be THIS dream? This dream never made any sense.) “I find ivory the most pleasant medium for depictions of the human form, don’t you?” Here he secretively brushed his fingers against Xander’s stomach, then began to rub his knuckles there and Xander found his cock, found his whole body, growing hard underneath.
“Not for the elephants, I suppose,” he said breathlessly, furtively looking around the room to see if anyone had noticed his condition. That made the men laugh again, Rupert in particular. “Ah yes, elephants! Ah, Africa!” He turned to fetch another book from the far shelf.
“Quite in love with the queen’s books,” Spike was murmuring in his ear, “Oh yes my dear young Sir, quite enamored with them in every way.” Xander laughed to please Spike, even though he was also grateful that Giles was here. As long as he didn’t get that sinister looking Watcher he could guarantee a feeling of safety when Giles appeared in dreams.
“Dost thou think I speak in jest?” Spike was murmuring in his ear now. “But he came singing them love songs them last week. He carried their favor in the joust, and I think he has dishonorable intentions towards the atlases…” Xander covered his mouth that no one would hear his chuckled. “By Mary, late at night, when the candles are out and all are abed, he comes into the library and whispers his yearnings to them, caressing them with one gentle hand and himself with another…Mary yes! I’ve caught him at it. He lets his breeches fall and wraps his fingers around his heavy cock, placing it gently upon his favorite pages and …. what? I’ve seen it with my own eyes, Xander, the man is hung like a horse.”
Sir Alexander gasped and then choked, coughing to cover it, and was then horrified to see Rupert himself approaching him.
“Was that quite enough, need you another?”
“Oh no, I am certainly most engrossed with this, thank you sir,” Xander whimpered.
“Then turn the page. Books, young Sir Knight, you shall find all your answers there.”
“Ah, the sacred chalice,” he said as Alexander turned the page. The page (mercifully free of words) showed a decorated cup as might grace a king’s table. “The sacred blade is plunged into the chalice at the height of the sacred drama, a most holy moment.”
“Pray, is this the holy grail?” Xander asked, trying to examine the picture (which would be so much easier if Spike wasn’t so firmly rubbing his back and shoulders.) The decorations on the cup seemed to show knights on a quest.
“It is a symbol of the secret vessel of a woman, that which she guards, her sacred treasure,” Spike was purring into his ear, his hands making it quite clear he was completely uninterested in a woman’s sacred space.
“That is clear,” Xander managed, clearing his throat. “But what of these?” Here he pointed to the image of the pair of knights.
“Ah,” Spike said, turning the page, “These are two men working together, so that they might mutually achieve their shared desire.”
“This is a railway hand-cart.”
“Oh yes, quite.” Here he turned THAT page to show more medieval knights. Again, they were marching towards some unknown destination.
“Here we are, two men working together, two bodies working together, finding a way they might mutually reach their common goal.”
They turned another page which depicted a man, naked, on his hands and knees, a collar around his neck. Xander started badly, but Spike held him close and turned the page quickly. “No fear of that, Sir, no need for it at all. Many things in the world more frightening than…. oh my…..”
The next page depicted a sunrise. Xander turned the page quickly for his teacher, and Spike looked relieved.
The next page showed two armed Spartans facing each other, nose to nose, toe to toe, weapons raised. “Two bodies working together, finding ways they might mutually achieve their shared desire.” Spike whispered.
Here he began pressing his large hand against Xander’s chest, rubbing suggestively. “There are many ways,” he was whispering, his lips almost touching the boy’s ear. “There are many, many ways for two bodies to work together.” Alexander shivered and Spike removed his hand, only to drop it to Xander’s lap to rest on his upper thigh, thumb caressing the (too thin!) fabric of his leggings. “Unless, of course, you find it more acceptable for a man to be with a woman, in which case I would be delighted to instruct you on certain specifics….”
“Oh my goodness no, women terrify me,” Alexander was whispering. But when Spike reached up to caress his face he took the hand in both of his and held in firmly. “Please, Sir….”
“Have I done something wrong?” the Count was asking him, his eyes serious and piercing. “Have I done anything that displeases you?” “Oh no please Sir, do not think that. But your Grace,….Spike, I do so wish you would not do these untoward things here.”
“Think not of it, my bold Sir Knight.” he said, moving in to brush his lips against Xander’s trembling mouth in a chaste kiss. “These are my brothers, and they know of my intentions toward you.”
“But *I* do not,” Xander pleaded. “Please, Sir, you know I am most innocent of these things. I only know I wish to be alone with you. Can we not be alone together?”
Spike leaned back casually and looked around the hall, and Xander leaned back as well, trying to maintain a look of calm, a look of propriety, even though his heart was pounding and his breath was coming in gasps. Spike took in the remaining knights, now clutching each other and swearing fealty one to another (as they always did when the wine was all drunk up) and the queen was still tormenting the mistrals with her constant questions, and Rupert who was looking for another book.
“’Tis nigh midnight. Excuse yourself now. Let them congratulate you, then find your bed. Within the hour I shall take my leave of the Queen.” He murmured, not in Xander’s ear but low enough for Xander to hear, “After your brothers are abed and you no longer hear the servants about, leave them. If they are still awake, tell them you cannot sleep and you are going to the chapel to pray. Then come to me. My servant Angel will let you in – have no fear of his eye, he is a dangerous man but he will never harm you for fear of my wrath. When you come I’ll put all my servants out and….” here he turned his eyes to Xander again, and Xander felt his knees grow weak. “…..and you shall have me completely and utterly to yourself.”
Xander heart skipped a beat and he nodded mutely.
“My bonny young squire, now a stalwart man,” Spike whispered and gently stroked his trembling chin.
“By the rood, do stop PESTERING the boy while he struggles to read, Spike! Holy God…”
“RUPERT I have specifically bid you NOT speak that way in my presence, unless, perhaps, you are praying??”
“Perhaps I am.” Rupert replied stiffly.
Spike sputtered. “To whom?”
“Does it matter?”
“Oh look, good fellows, this page has WORDS on it!” Alexander said quickly, desperate to distract the two older men, knowing he needed the approval of them both. “And look, I find I CAN read this bit!”
And he was more than delighted to find that, when he turned the page, he could read the words, or at least get the gist of them, and this is what he read:
When you come alone to his chamber he will greet you bare-chested and push you against the wall, freeing you of your leggings before you have time to speak. Drinking in the sight of your erection in the moonlight you will have no where to hide your desire. “You have every right to turn me away now, now you are a grown man” he will whisper before devouring your mouth in a brutal kiss. “How can you say this, when I am not married?” you shall reply. “You became a man upon the day your fellow squire gave up his life. Now speak as a man and push me away, or submit to me now….” and as he turns you to face the wall and push you to your knees you will realize your chance to protest has passed.
“Excellent” Sir Spike whispered, “Well read. And think nothing of the mess, the queen will see to it at sunrise.”
“The queen???” Xander asked, suddenly alarmed. “The queen adores me,” the Count was whispering, cupping his cheek. “No fear,”
“Your Grace…..Spike,” Xander found himself struggling to speak, “I’m confused.”
“Of course you are my boy,”” he growled suddenly, “Therefore you should wake up!”
I'faith -- by my faith
Mary -- by the Virgin Mary
By the rood -- by the cross (ie the crucifix)