Title: The Nothing Boy
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Chapter: 2/?
Chapter Rating: PG-13 (language)
Story Rating: R
Summary: Xander wants Spike. The hyena knows it. Tuesday was the last straw.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. At all.
Warnings: Hyena!Xander, Rough sex later.


Chapter One: http://qwerty-lee.livejournal.com/1421.html#cutid1
Chapter Two: http://qwerty-lee.livejournal.com/1759.html#cutid2

 

The whole damn hall reeked of cigarettes.

 

Somebody’s got a pack-a-day habit… He breathed in the scent, relaxing into it slowly as he headed for Xander’s door. Then he stopped, realizing where it was coming from. And that somebody’s visiting Harris.

 

Fingers itching for his own nicotine, he paused in front of the door, listening for a snatch of conversation. But all he heard was one heartbeat, pounding hard and fast. He hissed a little, reaching up to knock-

 

-“Hey there-” The door was yanked open before he even touched it, words barely out of the boy’s mouth before his hands were on the duster, gripping it and dragging him into the apartment. Jesus, it smelled like a fucking ashtray. A bloody ash tray. “-Spike. I was just thinking about you, and now here you are, with your boots and your hair doin’ that ‘I Surrender To The Hairgel’ thing and how weird is that? Really, I mean, seriously, just thinking about you.”

 

The blood was everywhere. All over him. Spike went tense, just barely holding back his demon and trying to make sense of what B-Positive blood was doing on Xander’s AB-Negative body. And then he felt the door close behind him. “Har-”

 

“Jesus Christ, what is this thing, buttoned?” The kid nearly whined. For a minute, he wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Then he looked down and realized he was talking about his duster. Which was quickly coming undone. “You’d think you’d be too cool to button up your fucking-”

 

“What the Hell are you doing?” Snarling short and cruel, he tried to yank himself away. But apparently the kid wasn’t having it. He’d finally gotten the duster undone, and was now practically ripping at his shirt, except there really was no practically about it. He heard the fabric tear and his hands shot out, shoving Harris to the floor. The boy tumbled back, but looked undisturbed as he crawled his way toward him again-

 

Wait-

 

The chip. The fucking chip didn’t go off.

 

He froze completely for a too-long second, then stepped back against the door, nice and easy. Jesus Christ, it couldn’t be. It looks like Harris. Sounds like Harris…

 

… Doesn’t exactly smell like Harris, but…

 

“Wow. Shy, all of a sudden?” The kid sat on his heels, hands grabbing for the belt of his jeans, yanking it off with an unusual tenacity. Not that there was anything really ‘usual’ about this situation. “God, you’re hot. Fucking killer sexy, you know that?” Leaning in, he let his tongue slide from his lips. It stroked over Spike’s stomach, slick and hungry, and Spike almost lost his mind for a second, trying to stop arousal from flooding his brain.

 

And then Xander laughed. A laugh that gave Spike chills, that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. It wasn’t human.

 

“Of course you do.” The kid answered his own question, reaching up to push him harshly against the door. His hands were big and rough, calloused from years of living dangerously, and they splayed over his pale chest, touching every inch of skin he could reach. His shirt was scraps now, and it rolled and wrinkled upwards with each inch he claimed. Spike watched it, tension growing in his nerves, his own body betraying him as he wondered what the fuck was happening right now. His prick had no such worries. Then he saw the blood caked beneath his nails.

 

With a shaky, tentative hand, he slid his fingers into Xander’s dark chocolate curls, and yanked his head back, hard enough to make a grown man scream.

 

Xander didn’t scream. In fact, he looked straight up at him, meeting his shocked stare almost gleefully.

 

And not even a snap from the cursed chip.

 

“Got yourself an upgrade, Harris?” He tried to sound calm, like his usual Big Bad, but his hand was quietly scrambling for the doorknob behind him. “S’about time.”

 

“You know, this would work a whole lot better if you’d just shut up and enjoy.” Licking his lips, taking them from supple to biteable without a second thought, Harris hooked his fingers into Spike’s belt-loops, yanking them down to get to his sharply defined pelvic bone. And more. Squirming back, trying to get the Goddamn door to open, Spike let go of the boy’s hair to grab him by the back of the neck and pull him to his feet. The sight of him on his knees like that was making him forget this was not fucking normal.

 

It’s not good to lose focus when dealing with a Scooby-Gone-Wild.

 

Case in point, right now, watching those lips and that grin and those hot, dark eyes that rattled him because they were so raw… He barely felt the kid come closer until he was plastered against the door, breathing the same air, smelling like cigarettes and beer and blood and leather…

 

… And something better. Something that intoxicated him, made his temperature rise. His fingers itched to touch, to scratch, to dig their way into that scent.  

 

He pushed, trying to shove the kid off, but he just pressed in closer. It was only then that Spike realized how strong it was. Whatever it was, it had enough power to make vampire strength look like child’s play. Shit… He tried to stay cool, but the thing had him so tight against the door it was impossible to stay sane. It nuzzled his neck, tongue dragging warm and slick over his jaw, up to his ear which suffered a harsh nip between his teeth. “C’mon, Spike…” He whispered it, his knee pressing between the vampire’s thighs, spreading them apart by force. “C’mon, just fucking take what you want.”

 

What I want… He almost laughed out loud. Jesus, the things that flooded his mind would’ve made the boy beg for mercy, and that’s just off the top of his head. If Xander Harris knew what this thing was offering…

 

-Oh GOD… All those fantasies washed away as the kid’s hips jerked against him.

 

He could feel him. Rigid, thick and hot, tenting his black jeans and rutting against his thigh. It made him shudder, made him lose the breath he didn’t need, because Fuck that cock was big. Huge. He almost groaned out loud with the smell of his arousal, the thick cock he could nearly taste as he closed his eyes and envisioned it stiff as a rod in his briefs. Christ. Game over. If he didn’t get out of here, he was going to-

 

And Thank God his wrist finally jerked the doorknob just the right way. The door opened, and he scrambled back into the hall, watching as the thing that definitely wasn’t Xander Bloody Harris stumbled forward, gripping the door frame.

 

It was still grinning. And laughing. That strange, high, unsettling little laugh.

 

“Okay. Okay, Spike.” Harris moved, slow and liquid, rolling his hips just enough to show strength in his stride. “If you’re not gonna fuck me tonight, I’m gonna go find dinner. Call me when you’re horny.”

 

With that, dark eyes snapping some crazy electric green, he slid past him and headed down the hall.

 

Shit… Spike cursed to himself, turning back toward the apartment and heading inside. He didn’t know what that was, but he was going to find out.

 

--

 

You didn’t smell like Him enough-

 

“Shut up.” Xander muttered, eyes scanning the street outside his complex as thoughts of hunger pushed their way past his lust. “He’ll make up his mind eventually. Fucking horny bitch.”

 

You need to smell like leather and smoke and blood and beer. You smell like you, you Piece of Nothing!

 

Her screeches slithered through his brain like a dog whistle, and he winced. But the screeching soon subsided, and he shook his dark waves to rid himself of the lingering headache before moving on down the block. He was starving. He wanted… God, he wanted pig. Or chicken. Or rabbit. But the scent of Spike still haunted him, and he couldn’t help a high, delirious giggle at the thought of having him pinned against his door like that. So pretty. Just a little further and he would’ve been able to taste what he so desperately needed.

 

His giggle trailed off, and he muttered to himself cheerfully. “Next time, I’m not taking no.”

 

She growled in his mind, but did not object, and he let himself grin with something uncontrollable. “You know, I’m fucking insane right now.”

 

No… She yawned, in that dry tone that meant she really could care less what he was. You are Nothing…

 

“Yeah,” He grinned even wider as the smell of burnt chicken invaded his nostrils. A couple teenagers walking by with a bag of KFC.  Perfect. “I’m Nothing.”