Sweet Revenge
Part 24b
It sounded corny in the extreme, and certainly not anything he'd ever say out loud, but Xander just couldn't take his eyes off Spike. Not in a 'gazing soulfully at him' kind of way, hey, he had a *little* pride. Trying to do it an a totally unobvious way, glancing under his lashes, letting his eyes pass over him 'casually' as he looked around, occasionally allowing himself a slightly longer look throughout the conversation, and he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop because every time he looked at Spike, Spike was looking back. Looking at him like he was special, smart. Maybe even kind of beautiful, and it made him *feel* special, a feeling he'd never had before in his whole life, so even as they talked in an awkward, painfully polite way about T.V, warm happy feelings were spreading out inside him, and who cared that Spike liked 'Passions', and Xander didn't, or Xander liked 'Star Trek' and Spike didn't. So maybe they didn't have much in common T.V wise, but that really didn't matter. Not when Spike kept looking at him like that. And no it wasn't what he'd call relaxed, but the tension wasn't grindingly awful either, it was more . . anticipation. Just the average tension you'd get on a guy-guy date with a vampire, after they'd gone about everything completely backwards and already battled through way too much hurt and hate, but somehow still here, still wanting to try. For the first time in his life he finally understood what Willow had been telling him about one day meeting the person that would make him want to let his barriers down, because no matter how much fun he may have had with Cordy or Anya it had *never* been like this, and any bitterness that might have been lingering between Spike and himself was melting away like snow under the warmth of those glances, because here they were, at the beginning for the first time.
Spike prided himself that he'd seen a lot, done more, and had learnt by now that when something started going his way there was bound to be a fall just waiting for him. After all this was him, the unluckiest damn vampire in history, and the only defence he had against that drop was to wrap himself up in the Big Bad persona like a shield and pretend he didn't give a damn.
But Xander kept looking at him with these little flickering glances like he still couldn't really believe Spike was here, and it was hot and so adorable it was almost painful, and he wasn't thinking about a fall. Not at all, and why would he strut around playing Mr. Seen-It-All when Xander was sitting opposite him and stammering to explain in a slightly embarrassed, totally endearing way, why Picard was better than Kirk? In fact the he wasn't really was thinking about anything other than watching those dark eyes flick up again, and the faint flush that rose over his skin when Spike caught him, and he couldn't keep the smile away, because Xander was gorgeous, and brave, and bloody good company, and here with *him*, and it was different, just so much better than anything that had happened before. Until tonight it had all been rushed sex and bitter arguing, but now it was a quiet steady glow, inside him, surrounding him, he'd never felt anything quite like it before, and never mind that Xander was human, and a friend of the Slayer and that he was having feelings that no vampire should ever have, right now, it just didn't matter.
Drinking more beer and almost without noticing the pauses were less frequent, less awkward, the time flowed by, the conversation flowed with it and Xander vaguely noticed that things were getting hazy around the outside, except Spike, he was still clear, and if occasionally, more than occasionally, to be honest, Xander's brain would send him a flash of Spike kissing across his nipples and down his stomach, then nobody needed to know that but him. Crazy to be getting all dreamy eyed about Spike now, but maybe it was just long overdue, something he'd been holding back and was making up for lost time, because Spike was so beautiful it was almost blinding, even in a green shirt. Forgetting that Spike was a demon. Forgetting about Buffy. Forgetting about everything except Spike was looking at him with those blue eyes you could just drown in, and talking to him in that English accent, all rough and husky and although he'd thought about Spike a lot it had been about his fighting, his body, his cruelty. Something he'd never really noticed before was Spike was smart, Spike got his humour. Spike was . . .fun, even while he was protesting with the utmost seriousness;
"I'm just sayin' is all, Jar Jar was the most irritating little shit in movie history! If that had been me I'd 'ave strangled him with his own spindly legs. "
"Yeah I can see you'd be more of a Darth Vader fan." Xander began ticking points off on his fingers. "Obsessive love of black, deathly pale, crazy obsession with being the baddest in the galaxy . . . "
"Yeah well at least I'm not R2D2." Spike retorted. "Talks incomprehensibly . . . "
"Hey, R2 was totally comprehensive!" Xander interrupted indignantly. Then realising there was something wrong with that sentence, "as am I. And I'm not R2. Darth."
Easy banter, which in it's own way was kind of amazing, and not very much was really being said, but under it all they just couldn't stop *looking* at each other, and that was saying much more than what was coming out of their mouths and everything else was kind of falling away because right now there really wasn't a world outside here.
"Just because you like outdated rock music . . ."
"Oi! Alice Cooper is not outdated."
"Sex Pistols." Xander countered.
"Billy Idol" Spike said. "He's gonna make a comeback. It'll be huge."
"Or, you could try something new."
And Spike was giving him that look again, that look that just kept upping his inner thermostat. " I thought I was."
"Really?" Xander asked, smiling slightly, and sometime over the last hour or so he'd given up on the 'casual glances' thing. Now he was blatantly drinking Spike in with his eyes and Spike was doing exactly the same back to him.
"Yeah." Spike said softly, almost dreamily. The heat in Xander's eyes was dripping into him, like warm honey sliding slowly down and spreading out inside him. It was bloody hard to resist, and talking of hard . . .If Xander didn't stop looking at him like that, that would be one lad that was going to get kissed to within an inch of his life before the night was out. He shook his head slightly to disperse the temptation that had lodged in there to just sling Xander over his shoulder and throw him on the nearest bed, and ran a finger under his collar, unfastening the top button on his shirt.
"Missing your T-shirt?" Xander asked amused at the sight of Spike actually squirming.
"I can't wait to get out of these things." Spike replied absentmindedly, and Xander felt his cheeks flush, his eyes dilate, for a second a sudden flash searing across his brain of
/Cold rain and hot body rammed in to the hilt and Spike arching up/
some stuff he shouldn't be thinking about.
Spike caught the look on Xander's face and went still. Unable to tear his eyes away, drinking in the darkness in Xander's eyes, like for a minute he was . . .away. In his mind remembering. Reliving. Exactly. What. It. Was. Like. Crazily he felt his cheeks grow warm with a touch of embarrassment - something he thought he'd left behind about a hundred years ago - and something else entirely.
For a long moment they didn't move, then Xander broke the eye contact, looking down at the table where Spike's hands were resting between them. He reached for his beer, letting his hand brush against Spike's. Casually. So Spike could brush it off as unintentional if he wanted to.
Xander's hand brushing against his sent little sparks fizzing right in a base of his spine, Spike shot a look at Xander, but he was intently looking at some point just past Spike's shoulder. Resisting the urge to look over his shoulder Spike watched for Xander setting his glass down again, and lightly stroked Xander's hand with his finger.
Xander stroked back and this time Spike's finger curled around his. Thumbs extended, met and the next moment their hands clasped on the table. Smiling at each other, both stunned by the happiness flooding through them and not caring in the slightest that they were out in public.
Spike's hand was cool, strong, his thumb stroking over Xander's hand, made him feel shivery, and even in a weird way, safe. Taken care of. A feeling so unfamiliar he took a moment to place it, and who would have thought Spike would be the one to make him feel like this?
"So how does this rate on the naughty touching?" Spike asked. Teasing him a little, that was Spike, always acting the cool ironic guy, but it was just swirling right over his head because Spike was holding on to his hand in public no less, and Xander could feel himself glowing with happiness.
"Well" Xander said, feeling decidedly short of breath, as he played with Spike's fingers, "naughty touching really only involves touching naughty parts, so this isn't classed as naughty touching."
"Oh really?" Spike arched his eyebrow. "Sure about that?" Lacing and unlacing his fingers with Xander's, letting his thumb stroke over the sensitive skin on the underside of his wrist and Xander was watching him with huge hungry eyes, his skin flushed.
"I . . .may have to rethink it."
"So if this *is* naughty touching" Spike said half teasingly, half huskily. "Maybe I'd better stop it."
"Maybe." Xander agreed, holding on to Spike's hand a little tighter. Their eyes met again, and they both knew. The 'no naughty touching' rule had just struck out.
A thump of desire hit Spike right in his stomach - not the gentle hum that had been with him all night - this was hard, needful and suddenly, as much fun as he'd been having Spike didn't want to be here. He wanted to be in Xander's bedroom, in the dark, hot slick skin pressed against him, around him, feeling Xander's fingers holding on to him, hard and shaking and really this wasn't just about wanting to have sex. This was about wanting to be with *Xander*. To make up to him, to do it the way he should have done from the start, going to
/make love/
treat him so nice, do so many things to make him quiver with pleasure, to use his body to show Xander just how crazy he was about him, and he should have *known*. It was all so *sweet* and *nice* and sweetness wasn't for him, it didn't happen to him, he should have had some intuition, but he didn't, he just kept on smiling at Xander, then Xander's eyes flickered past him and widened in shock, his face draining of colour but before he could ask what was wrong a voice from behind him stammered out;
"Xander? What . . .what's going on?"
Spike whipped around and the warm happy haze that they had spun was abruptly ripped in two as a chill of shock, horror, all bad things ran through his body and his heart sank into his boots.
It was Willow.
***
The cold shock hit Xander with a slap, his hand still clasped in Spike's felt suddenly icy, even the warmth that had been spreading throughout him seemed to freeze in it's tracks before evaporating. For a moment none of them moved, a little pocket of cold and quiet outside the warmth and noise of the room. Spike's eyes were horrified, Willow's eyes were stunned, and this was bad, beyond a mere gatecrashing of a date. Even if it was a date with Spike.
Tara was coming over to them, still asking Willow what was wrong, then pulling up short, her questions halting as she took in the scene, her gasp of surprise was loud in the stillness. The flicker of movement snapped Xander out of his paralysis. Time began to lurch on awkwardly again and he dropped Spike's hand, standing up quickly.
"Guys it's okay" he said quickly. He couldn't believe his voice sounded so calm when his heart was thumping uncomfortably fast, his knuckles white with tension. Shit, *shit*, what were they doing here? Of all the bad luck . . .
"Xander what are you . . .? *How* did you . . .? What's going on?" Willow stammered blankly, her eyes darting between the two of them in disbelief.
"Willow" Tara said anxiously flicking glances so quickly between him and Spike it almost looked like she was being played at a faster speed than usual, "m-maybe we shouldn't . . ."
Spike snapped out of his sick, horrified motionlessness, sharply jumping to his feet, as though the movement would shut her up. Every instinct he had was *screaming* at him to get out, the fear thudding through him, he had to go, right *now*, and he was taking Xander with him, he just had to keep her quiet for a minute . . .
"Yeah, witch girl's right. You shouldn't. We're just hanging out Red." Spike said, his voice low, dangerous and clearly stating 'so just piss off and leave us to it'.
But of course Willow wasn't going to listen to that.
"Really?" Willow said angrily, stepping up to Spike her green eyes suddenly *blazing* with undisguised loathing and Xander felt himself recoiling, because Willow should *never* have that look on her face.
"'Cos you know the two of you together, holding hands, drinking it kind of looks like a date. I *told* you what I'd do if you ever went near him again!"
"Sweetie this isn't the time . . ."
"Willow I said it's okay . . ."
"Red this is none of your business . . ."
"I think you playing games with my friend is very much my business!"
"Listen!" Spike said, somehow keeping his voice calm, his temper down, though his guts were twisting with nausea and fear, the instinct to fight or run making every inch of him twitchy. "I'm not playing games. I'm here tonight because I want to be with Xander, no other reason I swear." His voice was low but fervent, all his attention on Willow *willing* her to believe him, but the anger and loathing on her face didn't even flicker. Spike snarled in despair, turning to Xander.
"Xander we should go, *now*." Xander nodded and went to grab his jacket, but Willow grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Xander are you crazy? Three days ago you were ready to kill him for leaving flowers and now you're on a *date*?"
Xander felt like he was being torn in two. Her fingers were tight on his arm, and her voice was rising with each word. Heads were beginning to turn, but the only thing that mattered was reacting to Spike's desperate signals to leave, leave *now*, but Willow was hanging on to him and he couldn't just push her off, she was only trying to look out for him.
"Will, just listen" he said, not even really knowing what was coming out of his mouth, just desperate to say something to put her mind at rest, but he couldn't think of anything. Maybe there was nothing he could say. All he could come out with was; "Things are different now, I was going to tell you."
"Things are *different*?" She repeated incredulously, "How? Has he suddenly developed a soul? *Nothing* is different!" She was yelling now, and people had given up even pretending not to watch, too many eyes, all fixed on them.
"Xander. . . ." Spike burst out urgently. "Don't listen to her, she's just trying to bust this up . . ."
"Willow please!" Tara said shakily, taking in the curious glances that were being thrown their way, "I don't think we should talk about this here."
"She's right. Willow this isn't the time or the place. We'll talk tomorrow, I promise." Xander barely knew what he was saying as he struggled into his coat.
"No!" Willow grabbed at his other arm, trying to pull him away with her, away from Spike. "Xander you're not safe with him! Please, come home with me!"
It was the 'please' that caught him, Xander hesitated, and for a second, it felt like everything was slowing down. In a weird way he felt like every step he'd taken with Spike had been leading to this moment right here. Despite the roar in his ears, everything looked so clear right now, his mind recording the smallest of details, the half empty beer bottles on the table, the light catching on Willow's hair, the tightness on Spike's face as he watched him take Willow's hand.
Spike closed his eyes for a second. The sight was just too painful.
Willow looked at him, a smile of sheer relief touching her mouth. Xander smiled back a little sadly and placed a loving kiss in the palm of her hand. Then let go and took a step back. Willow stared at him, the smile that had begun to touch the corner of her mouth vanishing.
"No Will" he said softly. " I want to stay." Spike's head shot up to look at him and he regarded Spike gravely over Willow's head. Spike's eyes were stunned, and right then he'd have given his heart to know what Spike was thinking.
Spike swallowed under Xander's calm unwavering gaze, for a second the outside world completely disappeared, and he felt his mouth opening, to say . . .God knew what, but Willow began to shake her head violently.
"No. No *way*!" She exclaimed, her eyes darting between the two of them in disbelief.
Spike snapped his attention back to Willow, but this time his eyes were narrow and flickering yellow. Xander was *his*, he'd just said so, and no interfering little bitch was taking him away. His demon had been stirring ever since the witches had walked in and it was roaring now, to fight, kill, destroy anything that threatened to take what was his away from him. "Red I've told you this is none of your bloody business so why don't you and the witch go work some 'spells'! Just sod off!"
"I know what you're doing Spike!" Willow spat at him. "Don't think I'm going to let you . . ."
"Willow . . ." Xander interrupted, suddenly desperate to just make her *shut up* because the palpable anger was coming off Spike in waves and any second now he was gonna. . . .
"Red." Spike said quietly, his words coming out dangerously spaced apart, "you are skating on very bloody thin ice here. Leave it alone."
Willow whirled back to Xander in a last desperate attempt to convince him. "Xander he's *using* you! He's sick! He's *obsessed* with Buffy and he's doing everything he can to . . ."
Suddenly the words stopped on a gasp as Spike's arm flew out, grabbing her arm, whipping her round to face him, his other hand drawn back, and he could already almost taste her fear, feel the cracking warmth as his hand landed, bruising that pale skin . . .
"Spike no!"
Xander's voice ripped through the air, freezing him where he stood. It sounded weird. Harsh and scared and for a split second the moment seemed to drag on and on, no sound in the room, no colour, all those curious eyes fixed on them.
Then his eyes flicked over to Xander. Shock and fright and disappointment all written on his expressive face and Spike slowly lowered his hand, releasing his grip on Willow who took a shaky step away from him, towards Tara who grabbed hold of Willow protectively.
Xander let out the breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding. Spike glanced away for a moment and when he looked back his eyes were pure blue again. Maybe they had pleading in them. He didn't know. Eventually he looked away from Spike at Willow, her face was pale, upset.
"You two had better go. We'll talk about this tomorrow."
Willow looked at him in disbelief. "But . . ."
"Tomorrow." Cutting her off and why? Willow obviously had something important to say, but right now Xander just knew with a sick certainty that terrified him that he didn't want to hear it and he sounded so tight, so cold for a minute he didn't even recognise his own voice.
"Sweetie." Tara tugged at her hand gently, "Come on, you're upset, lets go home. Xander will be okay tonight."
Willow stared at Xander. "You're not coming with me." It wasn't a question.
He kept looking in her eyes, but he didn't move.
Her eyes slowly darkened with understanding and bitterness.
"Fine." She said at last. Her voice cracked and dark. Hurt in there. Acres of it. "But he'll destroy you. And he'll enjoy it."
She looked at him a moment longer, Tara pulled her away, but as she passed Spike she paused, and looked into his eyes.
"This isn't over."
Spike didn't move, didn't reply, and Tara led her slowly out of the Bronze.
After they had left Xander drew in a long shaky breath. Finally letting the shock of the last few minutes catch up with him, his legs began to tremble.
Spike, hovering next to him tentatively put his hand on Xander's shoulder. "Well . . ." Spike began awkwardly.
"I want to go home now." Xander interrupted stiffly, shaking off Spike's hand without looking at him.
"Sure. Okay." Spike began clumsily gathering together his smokes and lighter, stuffing them into his pocket. Performing even the simplest of tasks had become a herculean effort. He was shuddering with the aftermath of shock and relief, unable to believe that somehow he'd been in the tightest of corners yet still escaped. Wondering just how much Xander had read into that little scene, if he was going to realise that there had been more to it than Red throwing a snit because her childhood buddy was getting all cozy with a vampire. He picked up his coat and for a moment he just couldn't remember what the hell the point to it was, then he looked up and saw he was alone.
Xander had already gone outside.
"Shit!" Spike hurried out after him, shrugging into his coat as he went, ignoring the still curious looks he was getting from people. Outside the air was cool after the warmth of the Bronze, and Xander was stalking down the street in the direction of his apartment.
Fuck. *Fuck*.
He might have got out of there with his pale hide still intact but Xander was obviously pissed as hell, couldn't really blame him either. He shook his head in despair and turned to go in the opposite direction, he was still shaking uncontrollably. Something had happened to him in there. He knew he wanted Xander and all that, but just then, when Xander had chosen him over Willow, that was . . .well that had been something alright, nobody had *ever* put him first like that before. But Xander shouldn't have, no way should Xander choose him over one of his best friends. He was nothing. He was shit, he didn't deserve that kind of trust, he couldn't offer Xander *anything* . . .and Xander had obviously figured that out.
Good for him. Tomorrow Red was gonna spill her guts, and Xander would find out exactly how much he'd been used.
Shit. The sick despair gave an extra twist inside him. He turned and took another quick glance after Xander, who was still storming away from him. Fuck fuck *fuck*. He took a step after him before he caught himself and *forced* himself to turn away again. He got a full two steps before stopping and turning back around. He ran his fingers frustratedly through his hair, he hated *everything*, Red for showing up, himself for beginning to actually have a little hope that maybe holding on to Xander wasn't such a crazy idea, and all he'd ended up doing was upsetting Xander *again* and he hated that it all mattered so much to him when he should just be able to leave without a backward glance without caring . . .
He *didn't* care, see if he cared, there was no way he could win this. He was going to be sensible for a change, cut his losses, go home, pack his stuff, steal a car, then get out of town, before assorted Scoobies arrived screaming for his blood, going to get out of this *insanity* that was going on between them and never see Xander again . . .
"Oh *dammit*!" He screamed out angrily, then pelted after Xander.
Xander was walking fast, viciously trying to expel his anger, but it couldn't be burnt off, it was nestling inside him, making his eyes burn even though his cheeks were dry. Screaming inwardly at Willow for showing up and ruining things, screaming at Spike for nearly hitting her and most of all screaming at himself for getting so *dreamy*, and *happy*, and *stupid*. For having all these stupid little fantasies about waking up curled around each other and having breakfast and kissing when they meet and asking how his day had been, all those *couple* things that people did. He should have *known* it was all going to go wrong, this was him after all, good things didn't happen to him and they certainly didn't come in the form of someone who would have ripped his throat out without pausing for breath in the old pre-chip days, didn't come with guys who tried to fix things with their fists.
But he'd wanted it. He'd wanted it so badly.
He blinked rapidly and rubbed at his burning eyes with his knuckles.
"Xander!" He heard Spike's voice yell, his footsteps running after him, and he couldn't deny that underneath it all part of him was glad, but it was overpowered by the part of him that was just as pissed as hell.
/Go *away*/ Xander thought angrily as he walked a little faster, though to his disgust he couldn't stop himself from straining to hear where Spike was now.
"Xander" Spike was right next to him now, almost jogging to match his fast pace but he didn't turn to look at him. He was tired and he'd just had a hell of a . . .of a *thing* with his best friend, and choosing Spike over her was seriously scary and seriously freaking him out, and all he'd ever wanted was a normal happy life, what was wrong with that?
A little softer, unsure now.
"Xander."
And oh it wasn't *fair*. How could just his name coming from Spike's mouth make him melt like that? But he wanted to be pissed with Spike, the fact that Spike was making him want to forget about it just made it worse. He was confused and . . .*mad*. He didn't want to invite Spike back to his place, didn't want it all to be forgotten and forgiven, even though he didn't want Spike to go either and okay, it didn't make sense, but it was how he felt.
"Spike go home. I won't let myself get involved with someone that . . ." He caught himself. His voice had been wavering and rising dangerously. "With someone that . . ."
He snapped his mouth closed again. Spike had done a lot of terrible stuff in his time, killed people, fought with Buffy a hell of a lot, but that had been him being a vampire, awful but instinct. Tonight he'd almost hit Willow just because he'd wanted to, and that was different and they both knew it.
"I have had *enough* of that sort of thing in my life." He said at last. "I promised myself no more."
There was a long pause as Spike continued to hurry after him, shocked that Xander had referred obliquely to what nobody else seemed to have noticed, but what had been obvious to him within ten minutes of setting foot in that basement. And tonight he hadn't just touched that private and painful fear, he'd given it Willow's face. He could have happily set himself on fire he was so angry with himself.
"I didn't hit her." Spike said at last, still struggling to keep up with him.
"Give it up for the chip." Xander said heavily.
"Nothing to do with the chip. It would have been worth it just to shut her up. I just knew the second I touched her it'd all be over with you. I'm not perfect, never said I was. But I'm not like your dad either."
Xander rolled his eyes trying to distract himself from just how much he wanted to believe that.
"And by the way," Spike carried on angrily. "We are 'involved'. You know we are."
"Alright. Since we're 'involved' you gonna tell me what the hell all that was about?" He picked up the pace. If Spike wanted him Spike could damn well run after him.
Spike fell back then caught up again to buy himself a little time. He *would* tell Xander, of course he would, he didn't have much of a choice. But not now, while he was still so mad. Tell the truth now and he could kiss goodbye to any tiny chance he had of holding on to him, but if he could just hold on for a little longer, later, when Xander was a little less pissed he'd explain that this had started for reasons even less noble than Xander thought, but they didn't matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore because whatever his reasons had been everything he'd said the other night he'd *meant*.
He made up his mind and shrugged. Ultra casually. Ignored the cold thud of fear in his chest. "Doesn't take a genius to work it out. Red's just a little ticked off that you're giving me another chance."
"Was she right?" Xander asked angrily. "Are you doing to destroy me?"
Spike had a sudden flashback to the dream he'd had, a flash of Xander looking at him sadly as he set himself on fire . . .
"No!" He said vehemently. "Never. I'd stake myself first."
Xander didn't say anything but he slowed his pace a little, and Spike continued doggedly.
"I know it's hard for you to trust me after everything . . ."
"That's one way to put it."
Spike grabbed hold of Xander's forcing him to stop and look at him. " But you made a choice in there, and it's time you stopped running away from it!" His fingers were tight on Xander's shoulders. "This is it, this is what you've got. All the stuff that's happened before now, the Buffy stuff . . .it's over. Red doesn't know that but you do." He pinned him with a sincere blue gaze. "And I don't want anyone but you." He released Xander's shoulders.
Xander swallowed and dropped his eyes from Spike's. "I still don't want you to come back to my place tonight." he muttered, confused and angry with himself, because he genuinely didn't want Spike to just come home with him like nothing had happened, but he didn't want him to go either, and if Spike could understand that then he deserved a medal of some sort.
"So come back to my place."
"*Your* place?" Xander repeated in a hard voice, "What have I done to deserve an invite back there?"
"I want you to stay, you know, with me. In my home. Tonight." Then softer still. "If you want."
Xander swallowed again and looked away, running his fingers through his hair, trying to buy a little time, a little composure and blinked back the little pinpricks that just wouldn't stop burning in his eyes. He turned back to face Spike. Spike's eyes were bright in the moonlight and it almost looked like tears, except Spike didn't do that kind of thing. But Spike was right. They were involved, and he'd made his choice. It was no good trying to run away from it now.
"Alright."
Spike bit his lip and nodded. They turned back, together, walking to the graveyard. The walk was silent, both lost in their own thoughts, but Xander tentatively took Spike's hand and Spike's fingers curled around his gratefully. The graveyard had it's own beauty right now, moonlit and peaceful. Something he'd never appreciated before when he was trying to fight for his life against assorted demons. Spike led him around the gravestones and showed him into his crypt, gesturing for him to follow him down into the cavern beneath the crypt. Xander followed him automatically, looking around, straining to see in the dim light. A couple of candles were burning, and Spike began to light the rest. Xander frowned as the light increased fractionally and he realised where he was.
"I thought you had to leave this place after the vamps beat up on you."
Spike didn't reply, just busied himself with lighting the rest of the candles.
"Ah" said Xander, understanding at last. "They didn't did they? Just bullshit to get an invite to my place. What did you pick a fight with someone just to get those bruises? Just to get my sympathy, all part of getting me into bed?"
"Pretty much. Yeah." Spike didn't look at him as he finished lighting the candles. Too scared. Too ashamed.
Xander shook his head with a small humourless laugh. "You really are a bastard aren't you." He stated harshly, his voice jagged, darker than it should be.
Spike shrugged helplessly. /I don't want to be. Not with you. Not anymore. Do you have *any* idea what you do to me? Make me regret, make me want to be . . .something. Something good. But it's hard to start fresh when it feels like everything I've ever done is following so close and snapping at my heels./
"Well . . .yeah."
Xander sighed exhaustedly. "Hell of a date. What do you do for an encore?"
Spike shut out the voice telling him to tell Xander now. That this was practically a gold plated invitation. Later, when Xander wasn't so upset. That was the plan. "You've pretty much exhausted my possibilities for now."
For now. Right.
"Why do I seriously doubt that?" Xander said. But there was no real bitterness or anger in his voice anymore, just a touch of resignation. He looked around. Not really bad as a place that kept dead people in it went. Dusty and sparsely furnished, a T.V, an old beaten up chair, probably from the dump, his radio - he'd forgotten about that - a bed. A beautiful vampire with ice blonde hair dressed in smart clothes that didn't really go with the dust of the crypt. And right now the only thing interesting him were the last two things.
Spike looked up to see Xander watching him, and Spike felt a painful ache settle in his stomach. He was so good. So beautiful. Xander was going to leave him, he knew that. He didn't have a hope in hell of hanging on to someone as pure as him.
But he had now.
"Xander . . ." Spike said suddenly, and he would tell Xander he *would*, but before that just once more. Just one more night with him first.
He suddenly hurtled across into Xander's arms, the exact same moment Xander stepped forward and held his arms out. Spike clung on to him so tight Xander gasped for breath. Spike closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of Xander's heartbeat pounding in his chest, that special Xander *scent* that was warm and tangy and kind of like peaches, and if only he could just sink right in and never have to let go.
Eventually Spike loosened his grip a little and leaned back, still in Xander's arms, but unable to meet Xander's eyes, a little embarrassed at how blatantly he'd been seeking comfort, despite the fact Xander had been hanging on pretty hard himself.
"So" Spike said reaching for casual, but only coming up with shaking "how does this rate on the . . ."
He looked up. Xander's eyes met his. He never finished the sentence.
Kissing furiously, tongues relearning the taste, trying to make up for lost time, unable to stop touching each other, hands crushed up against the places they've spent all night trying to avoid.
And what *was* it about the way Xander kissed that did this to him?
"Oh *hell*" Muttered as his head fell back as Xander kissed a bruising trail down his neck, he was rock hard, but felt weak inside. Xander's mouth was back on his and he remembered how Xander liked it when he sucked on Xander's soft bottom lip and there was the moan, right on time. And there was no way he was going to give this up, never. Xander was *his* and he was going to keep him, but forgetting for now about the sheer terror of telling Xander the truth, that could wait until later, right now Xander was grinding into him, and he was moaning into Xander's mouth, trying to show him, just through this kiss how much he wanted him. Xander pulled back, panting for breath, his eyes wide and dilated.
"Come here" Spike muttered, backing over to the bed that was covered with poncy ruffled stuff Harmony had left behind, but it didn't matter, not when Xander was kissing him again, like Spike was all the air he needed. He eased them down on to the bed pulling Xander on top of him, and Xander's knee was rubbing against his hardness with a sweet rocking motion that's just what he's looking for and Jesus.
What the hell has he done to deserve this? They've fucked, oh yeah they've fucked before, incredible, amazing, bitter sex, but now he just wants to show Xander the things he's too scared to tell him, he's sorry, he wants him, he needs him, he . . .
But he stops thinking there, because those are frightening thoughts that he's not ready to say, even to himself because then he'll have to deal with them, and he doesn't think he's ready for that. Need, so deep it hurt, and his eyes were stinging. Xander paused.
"What's wrong?" He asked, his hand softly stroking his cheek.
Spike shook his head. "Nothing. Just . . .nothing." He didn't want to talk, didn't want to think, didn't want to see the look of concern on Xander's face. He just wanted to lose himself in this, just for a little while to crawl in from out of the cold.
And he was pulling Xander's sweater off, bending his head to lick at his pebbled up nipples. Xander moaned and pulled Spike up so they were kneeling on the bed facing each other, kissing deeply, their arms wrapped around each other, as the kiss went on and on. Fumbling as they got rid of shoes and socks, Xander unbuttoned Spike's shirt, and this felt . ..weird. In a good way. It felt *equal*.
The sound of Spike's zip going down was loud in the quiet of the crypt. Xander broke the kiss, watching with hungry eyes as Spike shuffled out of his pants and his hard cock popped out. Breathing fast and heavily, Xander reached out, tentatively touching it.
A sharp gasp was torn from Spike, but they didn't look up at each other, just watched, hypnotised as Xander's hand moved on Spike's cock, his palm sliding down the underside, his thumb sweeping over the slick tip, then his fingers curling around, moving and Xander couldn't help wondering. What Spike tasted like there.
Spike's panting was harsh and loud in the utter silence, his fingers tightening on Xander's shoulder as Xander began to move his hand faster, and he couldn't stop staring at Xander's hand, flicking glances at Xander, whose breath was coming faster, staring at Spike's cock and his hand with an expression of intense concentration, as his tongue darted out along his lips. Spike felt the desire thickened, sharpen, settling in his belly a heavy, aching ball of need, and Xander's eyes flashed up to his face. Want and hope and a touch of sadness in his eyes. He tangled his fingers in Xander's hair, wanting to say something, do something, to just make this all better, to make that sadness go away when Xander's head dropped down.
Crashing back on the bed and Xander was holding him still, kissing him all over, lapping at his thighs, kissing over his stomach that quivered helplessly under his hot mouth, kissing his hipbones, trying to learn Spike's body with his mouth and his fingers brushed between Spike's legs and then Xander's mouth. Hot breath. Breathing. There.
A pleading moan that he can't hold in, the pause making the pressure build and build, and just when he was thinking that it wasn't going to happen, Xander didn't want to do it, Xander licked. Rasping, quick lick over the head, lapping away the drops leaking from the slit.
"*Fuck*" Wet scorching heat, right on the tip of his cock, little sparks rocketing off under his skin, and he can't help jerking up uncontrollably, one fist clenching in the sheets, the other tangled in Xander's hair.
Waiting again, his harsh pants filling the crypt, when Xander's head dropped and another lick, his tongue tracing a hard line from base to tip leaving a wet heated trail in it's wake, and just as Spike gasped again for unneeded air he was pulled into a hot velvet mouth.
Spike tasted like salt and soap. Smelled like warmth and semen and pure *Spike*, without the smoke and beer scent that clung to his clothes and Xander couldn't believe he was actually doing this, his hands still shaking with nerves, but he can ignore nerves as long as he keeps tasting, smelling. As long as Spike keeps up those harsh pleading groans, keeps rocking into his mouth. keeps his fingers holding onto his hair. Licking and sucking him in and the more he does this the more he wants too, wants to *devour* him. Sucking down, taking Spike in as far as he can, and Spike was Going. Crazy. His thighs hard and tense under Xander's hands, whimpers of what almost sounds like pain, or just too much pleasure, and he's going with the pleasure option, judging by the way Spike's hands are holding his head still, his hips jerking up trying to get in deeper, thrusting into his mouth, and he's breathing in through his nose and can't quite get enough air, and he's hard, painfully hard trapped in his jeans and Spike's thighs were pressed against his ears but he can still hear Spike;
"Oh . . .fuck . . .hell *Xander* . . .oh bloodyhellthatisso*good*don'tstop. . ."
And he's getting tired, a little achy but no way does he want to stop, wants to taste Spike and he's making little breathy sounds moaned around Spike's cock, but Spike seemed to like that, groans coming faster, harsher and . . .
"Wait . . .wait, *wait*" Spike's hands were pulling him away and he let Spike slip out, lifting his head, worried, embarrassed.
"Is it not. . .?"
"Oh yeah." Pulling Xander up so they were face to face, his fingers frantic he had to touch him right *now*. His fingers ripped at the fastening to Xander's jeans, wrenching at them, until they were off and fucking *finally* hot slick skin sliding against each other, and friction and ohfuckyes.
"Too good. You carry on an' I'm gonna pop." Kissing him hard. "And I don't want it to be over, not yet. I want to do it to you all night."
Flash of heat in Xander's eyes and he thrust his hips against Spike's involuntarily, and both of them groaned as their cocks bumped and slid against each other.
"Like that idea do you?" Whispered into Xander's ear as he licked around it.
"Uh huh." Whimpered against his cheek.
"Me to. Come here."
Rolling and pulling Xander so he's up on his hands and knees, and kissing down Xander's back, and Xander was moaning, arching his back under Spike's mouth and he probably thought this was going to be the main event.
But not quite yet. Kissing down Xander's spine his tongue right at the base, just where the spine ended and the sweet curve of his buttocks began. Kissing there, then. Slips. Down.
Xander jerked forward violently in surprise.
"Spike! What are you . . .?" Panicked. Frozen with shock and /no, no don't do *that* not *there/
"Shhh." Spike whispered soothingly, running his hand over Xander's back. "I'll stop if you don't like it, just let me try . . ."
And Spike's licking. Just at the top. And Xander's heart was pounding like crazy, and he's immobile with tension, scared of moving, of doing anything to betray how much this is freaking him out . . .and trying to ignore that Spike's tongue, there, where nobody's mouth has ever been before, lapping slowly just at the crease where his buttocks begin, touching that sensitive place was making his spine fizzle with excitement.
And it's moving. Wet, warmth caressing him. Moving down, and /no no Spike don't do that./
Back up to the base of his spine and he relaxed a little. But then moving down and the tension is right back up, holding him immobile even as he's getting harder with every rasp of Spike's tongue. Harder than he's ever been in his life; casting a quick look down and his cock was rock hard, a single drop of precome at the slit, and behind him, between his legs he could see Spike's cock. Hard as his. Spike's tongue moving up again and yeah, stay up there Spike . . .But no moving down again, a little further, he's gonna tell Spike to stop, he's gonna tell him to stop any second now. And Spike's . . .spreading him, and slowly . . .oh so slowly, darting his tongue along. Flicking tiny little licks and he can't stop his breathing coming faster and faster the sound filling the crypt and the tension is dissolving under that warm slick sensation and oh fuck.
This is so good.
Just staying very, very still, not moving, not speaking. Eyes closed, panting, and trying to forget that Spike shouldn't be doing that there, and concentrating on that tongue and where it's going to go next, but Spike isn't moving it away anymore, now he's *lapping* and oh yes, yes, *yes*, and suddenly it slips. In.
"Oh fuck Spike!" Cried out as his body uncontrollably rocks back into Spike, Spike's mouth.
Hot slick firm tongue suddenly *inside* him and amazing wetness sending tingles of sensation all over him and *oh*.
"Like it?" Spike murmured, his voice weirdly tense.
"Yes. Oh *yes*" Gasped, and he's sounding like a girl here, but doesn't care about that, eyes closed and fireworks are going off in front of the lids, and Spike's mouth descended again and now his mouth was almost frantic, like Spike was just trying to *devour* him, and that's it, that's good, oh shit *yes*, is that good, and he can feel Spike moaning, and not caring anymore about anything but the rasp as Spike's tongue slips in again. And again. And again. And he's just groaning and whimpering constantly, a counterpart to the wet licking sounds coming from behind him, and
/Spike's fucking me with his tongue/
can't help thrusting his hips forward, desperate for friction because it's all spiralling now, feels tight and oh so hard, and wants it so bad, as Spike's tongue is still inside, still moving and
"So *good*"
But Spike's mouth moved away, moved lower, his head between Xander's legs now and he's licking still, darting his tongue over Xander's balls, and a long lingering lick on his cock that has him cursing softly and wants to just fuck Spike's mouth, and Spike's . . .rearranging himself, lying on his back, underneath Xander, so Xander's kneeling over him, and Spike's . . .licking..
"Oh *fuck*" Muttered low and he's watching. Watching Spike. Watching Spike's tongue, watching his cock slide between those dangerous lips and he doesn't know what's turning him on more, watching it or feeling it. One shaking hand cupping Spike's sharp cheekbone, feeling the movement as he sucked.
"Oh yes Spike!" Yelling, out and bracing himself against the wall and oh *yes*. Has to close his eyes because watching is just too much, pounding lightly on the wall with his fist and any second, any second now . . .
When Spike suddenly stopped, let him slip out and it's almost a relief because that was *way* too good, and Spike turned him over so he was lying on his back and he's sinking back on the bed, dazed and Spike was on top of him, settling between his legs, rolling his hips slightly, his cock sliding over Xander's. Friction making him whimper almost desperately, so close to coming, and he wants to so badly, but at the same time doesn't want to, not yet.
"How do you want to do this? Anything you want. Just tell me and I'll do it." Breathy hitching words muttered into his ear, and Spike almost sounded like he was pleading.
Grabbing Spike's hand and putting it on his hard cock and Spike was moving his hand, pumping slowly. Xander bucked sharply, then tore Spike's hand away, pushing it down towards his entrance, slick from Spike's tongue.
"You, in me." Muttered incoherently, hoarsely. "Want you there, so bad."
A moan and a hard kiss before Spike reached out grabbing the lube from the floor, next to the bed, and then Spike's fingers were there. Rubbing, and he's trying to relax but it's hard to when he knows the kind of wrenching painpleasure it's going to cause, but Spike was whispering, soothing little whispers into his ear, but the words don't make sense when one finger is slipping inside, rubbing, making him want to stretch, to take him in. He's so tight around Spike's finger, how the hell does Spike *fit* in there? But another pushes in and it's just like he remembered good hot and shivers and not so much painful, not anymore, but still makes him feel like his stomach has been hollowed out, his balls drawn up and tight, and this isn't going to last long.
Spike's fingers kind of unfurl inside him and brush against that place and fuck was it possible for him to get and harder? Jerking back violently onto Spike's fingers, crying out as bolts of sparking pleasure shot through him and Spike was actually biting his lip as he watched him.
"Yeah. There. Like that." Spike whispered, "do that again for me." Pushing against that supersensitive spot again, and he's bucking, crying out and Spike's eyes are so hot, so hungry . . .a hunger he wants to fulfil. His hands on Spike's hips, pulling him against him, spreading his thighs a little wider and Spike's kissing his neck and holding onto him tight and nerves and anticipation and rock hard and Spike's *there*, slippery and hard, pushing, pushing *pushing*. Biting his lip because it still does hurt, a little, and that kind of sickly sharp feel that always makes him think he's in way over his head here, but then Spike's past the opening, sliding in and it's heat and shivers racing through him, then that, ohfuck*yes* feel like he wants to open wide and take him in so deep . . .
"Oh Spike yes, god. ..."
And Spike was shaking as he finally sank in completely, for a moment just waiting there, locked into him. "Oh God. Xander, the way you *feel* . . ." Spike's hand encircling his cock almost crooning to him. "You're . . . so . . . hot."
Kisses pressed over his neck and shoulders and cheek, and Xander managed to lift his head enough to kiss him open-mouthed on the lips, then mouths breaking apart as Spike steadied himself with his hands on Xander's hips and began to move, move *inside* him, sliding in and out and it's never been like this before. Ever. Slow, easy, and so fucking sweet, so much more than sex, and something is welling up inside him, a feeling he's never had, like he just can't get close enough. Pushing back against Spike, legs wrapped around him, his eyes open and watching Spike above him, and can't stop *touching* him, running his hands along Spike, reaching up to kiss him, and Spike's eyes are locked on his, looking him like he's beautiful, like he's special. Like Spike cares, and it's a little frightening.
Because it doesn't feel wrong at all.
It's like coming home, and feeling whole for the first time in his life, and Spike has to feel something, he couldn't look at him like that if he didn't, and he's balancing right on the edge of something. Something he can't quite reach, not yet. His breathing was coming faster, the pleasure like waves, crashing then receding, then crashing again, but just when he thinks, yeah this is it, it backs down again, and he never wanted this to end, ever, but could feel the trembling in Spike's body, hear the hitches his breath was making and knew his control was shattering.
Panting now, getting a little tired, but can't stop not when they're so nearly there . . .and it feels like his body is being taken over by those sparks, making him push back harder against Spike, cry out louder, his hips snapping up to meet Spike's now and it's changing, speeding up until it's all a blur of flesh and sparks and frantic pace, their cries mingling together and Spike's eyes on him the whole time, his name keeps dropping from Spike's lips, and can't stop, not when Spike is *driving* into him, skin hot and slick and just sliding, and this is so *good* he can't hold on, it's too *much* Spike, in front of him, all he can see, inside him, inside his brain and his mind and heart.
"*Spike*. Oh fuck *yes*"
"Oh fuck Xander, I, I. . .I need you, you're mine. Always. Tell me . . ."
And maybe he should be a little freaked, not just by what Spike's saying but the *way* he's saying it, all frantic and needful but he's not freaked, he only wants to make whatever Spike's scared of go away, to reassure him, pushing back against Spike and holding on tighter;
"Yours. Yours. *Spike* . . ."
"Coming Xander, coming right *now*." Gasped into his ear as Spike slams up against him again and its all too *hot*, too *good* makes him push back harder and grab Spike kissing over his cheek, chin, jaw and Spike is kissing him again, hard and deep on the mouth, even as he thrusts and Spike's hand is pumping, hard, fast and he can't quite get a thought in his mind and he's falling, screaming over the edge.
Can feel Spike's fingers digging into his hips a little tighter then gasps, shudders, cries out, a hoarse shout as he lets go. For a moment they didn't move, just gasping for breath, then Spike's arms buckled and he slumped down on top of Xander, kissing him, hard on the mouth. He responded just as needily, and gradually the kisses died down from a storm into something soft. Gentle. Something he's never had with Spike before, and he was half on top of Spike, his head pillowed on his chest.
"Spike, that was . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't even *say* what that was, but Spike's arms tightened around him and Spike muttered into his hair;
"I know. It's never been like that for me before either." Low and muttered, and in a weird way almost . . .sad? Like Spike is expecting it never to be that way again? And he would ask but Spike was pressing kisses into his hair, and he was drifting, nearly asleep in his arms.
Spike swallowed. Xander lying in his arms so trustingly was making him feel so . . .good. Protective in a way he'd never felt before, not even with Dru had he felt this *burn* just wanting to watch over him even in sleep and kill with his bare hands anything that ever tried to hurt him, and now he can even understand why Red was so mad, trying so hard to drag Xander away from him, because God knows if he'd been in her shoes he'd have ripped his throat out to keep Xander safe, and Xander was *his* he'd got him, but he can't put it off any longer. He had to tell him, now. The toxic fear was rising up in him, and more than anything he just wanted to keep Xander's head nuzzled into the hollow of his shoulder and let them drift into sleep together for the first time. But he couldn't, he had to do this now, at least this way he could say he'd been honest, and maybe Xander might actually believe him when he said he was sorry. So, so fucking sorry.
He tried to swallow down the churning in his stomach and rolled until he was lying on top of Xander, body to body, skin to skin, and Xander's eyes were dazed, but awake. Staring down into those dark eyes that were staring trustfully back at him and he doesn't deserve that trust. Doesn't deserve any of this.
"Xander, there's something I've got to tell you." First sentence out of his mouth, and it felt like his tongue was numb, the sick fear was twisting in his stomach, he was cold and shaking all over.
"What?" A surge of worry in Xander's face replacing the contentment in his eyes, and it was breaking his heart.
"When we . . .when *I* first started this, with you, I wasn't just . . .I was . . ."
How the hell can he say this? I had another reason that you didn't guess but Red did and that's why she was so pissed? I was going to destroy you to teach Slayer a lesson for turning me down? I didn't really want you even as a substitute?
No, no, he can't say any of that, and suddenly he remembered his dream again, remembering that this was exactly the position he'd been in with dream Xander, right before he'd set himself on fire. Cold shudders ran through him, slithering in his belly, the fear making him icy cold, his palms sweating icy, sticky beads of sweat, and he can't say it, he *can't* it'll destroy Xander and he only promised tonight that he would never do that.
"I was a real bastard." He finished abruptly, relief and despair twisting inside him.
"Yeah you were." Xander agreed, his mouth smiling slightly, but his eyes serious, though the worry was draining out a little.
"I'm so sorry." He muttered burying his head in Xander's shoulder, inhaling his scent, trying to buy just a little more time and if he could just melt into Xander right now that would be perfect. "I was so stupid, I'd never do anything like that again."
"I know." Xander's arms were wrapped around him and now one hand came up to stroke his hair. "In a way I can even get it. I mean I did the same with Cordy for so long, I was going out with her and I was still obsessed with Buffy."
"Yeah but you . . ."
"What?"
One last ditch attempt to tell him the truth and the words are hovering right in the back of his throat they just need a little guts to bring them out. "Xander I . . .I"
Xander's eyes were fixed on him, encouraging. "You?" He prompted gently.
And to tell him now would be wrong, he knows that, he just *knows* it, it's still too soon, too shaky between them, he'll lose Xander if he says it . . .
"I love you." It comes out shaking. Three words and he's torn aside the protective attitude he wears to keep him safe, exposing his heart. The blood was roaring in his head, and he felt weak, shaking, like the effort of saying those words, half known and wholly hidden had stripped him of all strength and he couldn't believe he'd just said it, out loud, to Xander, when he hadn't even dared admit it to himself before tonight.
Xander's eyes widened in shock. "Spike . . ."
"I love you." He said again, his voice unsteady. "I wasn't looking for it, didn't want it, didn't even have the guts to say it to myself till just now, but I do. I love you Xander, I love you so much . . ."
"Spike it's okay" Xander stammered out, the words tripping over each other, like he has to get this out *now* while he has the courage, "I do - I love you too."
For a second Xander could read Spike's face clearly as the emotions crossed his face, shock, astonishment, wonder a pure burning joy, that was as amazing as it was frightening, for a second he even held on to Spike a little tighter, like they were about to be blasted away, then . . .darkness. Something else. Something unhappy.
Spike shook his head. "No. You can't . . .you shouldn't. You shouldn't love me I'm . . ." Spike looked away, biting his lip, he couldn't say what he was, and oh God, was this his punishment? To be given all that he wanted right before he lost it? It couldn't be, he couldn't let himself believe this. Xander couldn't love him, he was scum.
"I shouldn't." Xander agreed shakily. "But I do."
"Really?" Stupid tearful voice, that he couldn't control, seeking for reassurance and Xander's eyes were brilliant with unshed tears, matched in Spike's.
"Yes. I do, I think I knew all the time but I was so busy hating you, and I was so scared . . ."
"Shhh" Spike kissed him, wet, openmouthed, passionate kissing, quietening him, kisses with tears in them and why was Spike unhappy?
"Don't have to be scared, not now." He muttered in a low fervent voice, almost like an oath. And he was covering Xander's face with kisses. "I love you. Love, love, love you. Understand? An' I am *never* gonna hurt you again."
Xander tipped Spike's face so he was looking in his eyes.
"I know that." he said with conviction.
And Spike smiled through the tears, and Xander's body was stirring under Spike's, Spike's stirring in response, and Xander was kissing him back so hard, holding him so tight, and suddenly smiling brilliantly at him through his wet eyes, and the happiness burst open in Spike, huge and so overwhelming, blasting aside any unhappiness, because he was with Xander, who *loved him*.
"So" Xander said mock teasingly, but with a tremor in his voice, "you've got me naked and in your bed, you just gonna look at me all night?"
Spike laughed, Xander reached up for him and all misery was forgotten as they fell into each others arms.
Continued in the next part
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