Archived at: http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=rngrdead
Rating: Mature Audiences – for content and themes
Summary: Xander has PTSD after rescuing one too many slayers. Spike is recovering (sort of) after the battle with W&H. Fate may have it they eventually find each other - she's funny that way.
Spoilers: Sometime in season five AtS – and possibly late seven BtVS.
Warnings: M/M – if you don’t like boys together, don’t play here! i.e. Caution - boys playing together in this chapter particularly.
Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters nor make any money from stories etc, and bow down to their original creators Joss, et al., plus all the wonderful online writers who continue to give the Buffy/Angel verse characters life.
Spike woke slowly, acutely aware that he was enveloped by warmth from his human companion and trapped by the feather-light duvet. Reluctant to disturb Xander by moving he let his sleepy gaze drift around their room dappled by the morning sun peeping through the curtains and reflecting off various objects in the room.
He listened and gauged the motion of Xander’s steady breathing for a time, feeling a sense of quiet contentment the likes of which had not occurred for a very, very long time. There was something just right about their position of comfortable repose. Their bodies molded perfectly together, complimenting each other in their contrasts, yet so much as one in their similarities.
The ex Scoobie sighed heavily in his sleep, grumbled a little and rolled ever so slightly allowing Spike to retrieve his right arm which had been trapped under Xander’s pillow. He used the freedom to tentatively move until he could reach the side table, feeling around until he located his prize.
He’d wound up and set the time on his father’s fob watch the previous evening. Miraculously it was in perfect working order and had ticked away the hours until needed now. Spike noted that it was just before ten in the morning, then spent the next long minutes turning the silver object over and over in his hand inspecting every detail, committing it to memory once more, and wondering, again, at the miracle of its return. This whole trip to England seemed to have been peppered with serendipitous meetings and pointed reminders of his past, as both human and vampire, a trend that seemed destined to continue if certain hints dropped in various conversations were any guide. The question of why or where it might lead seemed mute at this point, however there was the slight ‘complication’ of Xander’s involvement.
The boy (or rather, the man, he reminded himself) was still traumatized by his years of struggling for the ‘greater good’ in places and situations no human should have to endure. Yet the sleeping adult male beside him, the handsome, brave brunette he called friend, and hoped to call more, was apparently still willing to throw in with an old ally and embark on a new adventure with him, a flawed and equally unstable, 160+ year old vampire-with-a-soul, a ‘day walker’ to boot.
He turned the watch over in his hand once more, admiring the fine filigree artwork and idly angling the object to cause the sun’s rays to reflect from the glass face to make white and occasional rainbow patterns on the ceiling and wall of their abode.
“Pretty. The patterns… hmmm… and you of course… Ummm… morning.” Xander had blinked his eyes open at some point during Spike’s quiet contemplation and was now gifting him with a sleepy, affectionate smile.
Spike placed the watch back on the side table then rolled back smiling, tenderly brushed an unruly lock from Xander’s forehead and whispered, “Mornin’ pet”, before ghosting a kiss on the relaxed lips. He was rewarded with a reciprocal kiss that begged for more as their bodies entwined once more, and morning arousals became obvious to both involved.
Rather than taking things cautiously as Spike had expected, Xander was swiftly dictating the pace, half rolling onto Spike and begging with his body, nipping a line from mouth to jawline and down to fine the pale throat and back, while their nether regions rubbed together through the material of Xander’s boxers. Needing more contact but also wanting to check that Xander was fully aware of what might occur if they continued, he stilled his hands for long enough to tuck one firmly in Xander’s waist band. “You want this Xan? You really want… me?”
Xander stopped abruptly and pulled up, looking at once hopeful and lustful, but suddenly unsure. “I… Ghod… Yes Spike – how can you even ask that? But… is it OK with you? I mean we’ve only been together… And maybe you don’t… Oh Gh… Sorr…” He was about to pull away, but Spike was faster, dragging him forward with an ‘umph’ and erasing the finish of the sentence with a firm tongue tussle of a kiss.
He dragged off Xander’s boxers with one hand and some squirming on the brunette’s part, and managed to growl out, “Want you luv… jus’ makin’ sure…”
What followed was a near desperate exploration of hands on bodies, of bits and nips on both sides, of kisses passionate and fleeting and all too soon, of Master vampire and human joining hands in firm strokes of their touching members and all too soon, tipping over into climax. They lay for a couple of long seconds, both breathing in recovery before Xander brought his hand up to Spike’s cheek and pushed gently until Spike’s arousal darkened blue eyes met his own brown one. “Would you… could you… I’m kind of done for a while, but could you… do me Spike? It’s been so long since… and I was hoping you might like to…? It’s OK if you don’t…”
He was graced with eyes widening with amazement then slight regret, “Be my pleasure pet… but lube? Don’t want to hurt you if it’s been a while.”
He felt Xander’s hand reach under his pillow somewhere and move around for a moment, before emerging with a small white tube. “Well aren’t we the boy scout?”
Xander grinned unrepentantly, dropped the tube on Spike’s chest, kicked away the covers and rolled onto his back. “Guess I was just hopeful…”
Spike kissed him again, thoroughly, while one-handedly twisting off the lid and proceeding to prepare the flushed human until they were both writhing and more than ready. He remembered, in the back of his mind, that this was by no means Xander’s first male on male encounter, and was reminded of the same as, after the initial tightness, his fingers sunk in easily. Well prepared the furnace that was Xander’s body, accepted his renewed hardness easily and as he was enveloped in the heat, they both groaned. They were a perfect fit, rhythm established naturally and it felt just… complete, two parts of a whole.
Their love making, as that is what it was, felt unhurried, easy, as though they had been together forever, and not that this was their first foray into the activity together. And when Xander felt the pressure of another orgasm approach and Spike’s face begin to shift, he pulled the fangs down toward his throat and latched his own blunt teeth onto the vampire’s neck. In the climactic moment they both bit – in Xander’s case, with all his might – and stars exploded behind closed eyes as blood and seed was spilled in unison. Xander felt the cool seed filling him and was vaguely aware of lowering his legs and Spike collapsing onto the sticky mess between them.
It was some untold number of minutes later, in the haze of tiny aftershocks of pleasure, that the two slowly pulled apart to remain petting each other slowly, simply resting as one. Spike’s left hand eventually snagged Xander’s right, and with their foreheads touching, though not looking into the man’s eyes, he purred, “Beautiful pet… just perfect… ‘n after that lot, reckon we might just have to make a habit of it.”
Xander snorted a little, “Yeah… happy habits… happy with that…”
Ultimately it was Xander who shifted away and got up to find them a damp towel in the bathroom, returning only to stand looking rather shocked in the doorway as he noticed the deep bite mark at the juncture of Spike’s neck. He had drawn blood, that was obvious, and with human teeth being as blunt as they were, there was also a significant bruise forming.
Spike’s hand moved to the wound and rather than appearing upset, smiled broadly then calmly put bloodied fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. “Looks like we’ve got one more thing in common pet…”
“Gahhh! Spike… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean… well I did… but…”
“An’ I loved every minute of it too Pet. Now you gonna come here or should we perhaps share that small shower instead?”
Before Xander could process a reply, Spike was up, past him and had the water sluicing over pale skin with finger beckon him to join in a mutual cleansing.
Four in the afternoon found the two standing patiently in the queue at the Oxford Link bus stop in High Street. They had arrived with only ten minutes to spare after checking out of the B&B in the late morning then spending the first part of the day pursuing their own interests - Xander to the swimming pool for another swim, meeting up with Spike for a pub lunch with Jonathon, Richard and company, at the academic’s usual haunt.
Spike had spent his time with Jonathon for the most part, the professor still keen to have William guest lecture at least twice in the coming semester of the new academic year. He also managed to skip out to shop for some ink for his pen, and fine parchment… plus a side trip to an exclusive jeweler recommended by Jemima for a ‘little something for Xan’.
All in all, it was an excellent and far more relaxed day, and they settled into their seats happy in the knowledge that it would not be their last trip to the university town.
The bus trip was taken in comfortable silence until their progress slowed as they entered the higher density traffic of London proper.
“Can we just… you know… not go back?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean, can we just sort of keep going to… I don’t know… I just feel like we were at the beginning of something and now we’ll be back and I have to… you know… ring Giles and check in and be… you know… I just don’t want to go back to all that… This isn’t coming out right… I just want… to move on… with you… that is if you…”
Spike turned and took in the somewhat strained features of his companion, noting for the first time that day, worry lines were again beginning to mar the handsome face next to him. “Not goin’ back, pet. Goin’ forward if anythin’… and you know I’m not one for plans, but I figured we’ve got a few things we need to be doin’ in the next little while and after that we can sort what else. There’s a party to attend tomorrow night – an’ before you go worryin’ – yes, you are comin’ and yes, with me; and yes we’ll sort us somethin’ to wear on the morrow. After that I figured we take a visit over the drink to fix some of me business bits ‘n bobs in the land of yodeling and cow bells, and after that who knows. Sound alright to you?”
Xander seemed happy with the reply and little more of consequence was discussed until they were entering their Soho apartment once again. As Spike flicked the lights on inside and moved to check the fridge for blood supplies, Xander hefted Spike’s bag onto his shoulder and made to climb the stairs. “Party? What party? And why am I invited?”
Spike poured his evening snack into a large mug and set it to heat in the microwave for a few minutes, absently replying as he did so, “Course you’re invited. Coming as my Consort aren’t you.”
He heard rather than saw the bags land on the floor before turning to see the incredulous expression on Xander’s face, “Come as your what?!”