Sweet Revenge
Part 9
Xander stared up at the ceiling. The apartment was so still he could hear a tap dripping in the kitchen from lying on the couch.
Drip.
/Hate him/
Drip.
/Hate him/
Drip.
/Hate him/
Drip
/Hate him/
BANG BANG
/Bang bang? That's not supposed to be in the routine/ Routine was important. Without routine everything was chaos, everything went wrong, bad things happened. Like letting a bitter enemy fuck you then stroll out of the room while you lay there feeling like a whore who hadn't been paid. Well and truly fucked. In more than one way.
"Xaaaander!"
With a monumental effort Xander slowly hoisted himself off the couch and padded over to open the door to possibly the only person in the world he'd let in right now.
"Hey Will."
"Hi! I thought I'd bring some food," she held up two bags that appeared to be crammed with edible goodness. "I thought we could spend lunch time together."
"It's nine in the evening," Xander pointed out with perfect accuracy.
"Yes, and it's Saturday and you haven't been to see me, so I'm thinking you've been in bed all day, which would make this lunch time."
"Whole day on the couch actually." Xander said with a pained smile. /Not the bed. Oh dear God definitely not the bed/ but he stood back and let her slide past him. She tripped into the kitchen, cuffed the dripping tap, emptied the bags of food out on the counter and began to make coffee. Xander had long since stopped wondering how she managed to do all these things at the same time, he just sat at the table and watched as she worked her magic.
It was kind of soothing to watch her flit around, though she looked nothing like soothing. Her pink top and checkered skirt clashed wildly with her hair, but it was Willow, and he felt some of the screeching tension begin to ease up from his body.
"You. Eat something." She ordered as the rich coffee smells began to fill the kitchen.
Xander stared blankly at the food in front of him. Slice of pizza or a burger? Maybe just a sandwich? And if a sandwich which one? Chicken or Cheese? Tuna or beef?
He rearranged them thoughtfully, then as no inspiration was forthcoming put them back in their original positions.
Willow paused in making the coffee to look at Xander in concern, he was staring at a beef sandwich as if he couldn't quite remember what it was.
She pulled out a chair and sat next to him at the table, her eyes wide with worry.
"What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Nothing. Why?" /If Spike's told anyone I'll kill him, then I'll kill myself/
She gestured at the food. "You usually eat everything."
Xander resisted the urge to smack his head with his hand. Of course he did. That was why he couldn't decide. The thing was . . .he really wasn't all that hungry. Couldn't ever really imagine being that hungry again.
"Besides for the last few days you've barely said a word. What's up?" She put her hand over his. "Is it Anya? Are you really missing her?"
Xander conjured up a mental image of his last words with Anya. She'd been struggling into the car with her bags, pausing to give him one last kiss.
He'd grabbed her hand, and said desperately; "Don't leave."All he could say to make her stay. And it felt like it had been ripped out of him, but it still wasn't nearly enough. She'd dashed the tears away and gently pulled her hand from him. "Got to. Goodbye."
Goodbye silky hair, wide eyes. Goodbye to one of the most cynical, yet innocent women he would probably ever meet. Yeah, this was something to do with Anya. But mostly . . .it was to do with Spike.
Spike.
But he couldn't tell Willow that. He knew he could supposedly tell Willow anything. But how could he expect her to understand when he didn't get it himself?
How could he have let it happen?
He didn't know. He just knew he'd been lost, lost the minute Spike had touched him, couldn't have said no anymore than he could have stopped breathing.
And now everything that he used to do, patrolling, working, even this, him and Willow felt weird, not quite real, like he was suddenly an actor playing his own life, because outwardly everything was the same, but it wasn't because he was different, Spike had made it different. He had slept with Spike. He couldn't take it back.
He didn't know if he wanted to.
It had been . . .the sex had been . . well how did he go about describing something like that?
He couldn't think of the words, could only remember the feelings. His mouth going dry and his breathing quickening as he thought of it. So intense it was frightening. Painful. Yet somehow just the most beautiful, wrenching pleasure he had ever felt. And try as he might he couldn't regret experiencing it. What he did hate and wished with every part of him that he could take back was the fact that it had been Spike that gave it to him
Maybe he should just admit he was bi or gay or whatever the hell he was and find a non evil guy to have sex with. Maybe even a guy he actually *liked*.
He tried to imagine letting anyone else do what Spike had done to him, *wanting* anyone else to do what Spike had done to him, and couldn't. Maybe sex with any guy would have effected him like that, but somehow he doubted it. He might be very ignorant about it, virgin territory so to speak, but he didn't think that just the fact it was with a guy could explain sex like that. It was Spike. Spike had made it what it was. His mind just kept coming back to Spike. Spike biting his lip as he pushed into Xander, Spike sinking deep inside him, Spike gasping his name as he came, Spike, Spike, Spike.
Was it even possible to want someone so much, even though you hated them?
And he did hate him. After Spike had gone /fucked me and left bastard, bastard, bastard/ and Xander had roused himself from his horrified stupor he had suddenly had to move, had to erase it, had to, changed the bed, but it hadn't been enough he'd scrubbed the mattress, scrubbed himself in the bath until he was almost raw, getting rid of the kisses, the semen, but even though the physical evidence was gone Spike was still fucking him in his mind, over and over.
And it was good damn it.
And if Willow could understand any of that could she explain it to him? And for a second, he didn't just hate Spike, he *fucking* hated him, for pulling him away from his friends like this, for making him keep secrets. But then again, this was nothing new. There was so much stuff he never told people. Like about Cordelia, when that first started, like when he felt left out and alone. Like exactly why he didn't go home to visit anymore. Like these feelings he'd been busy suppressing before Spike came along and blew his defences apart.
Willow knew so much about him, but she didn't *know*. She knew cos she'd always been around, not because Xander had talked about it. Couldn't tell her. Couldn't tell her about the sex, about the /wantingwantingwanting/ thump he still got right in the stomach every time he thought of it. Couldn't tell her about the prison of steam and too hot water he'd incarcerated himself in, trying to wash the memory right away. About hammering the mirror with his fists, shattering it because he just couldn't stand to see himself right then. Couldn't tell her about shoving his fist in his mouth to choke down the sobs, because he never cried. Wasn't going to start over this.
Couldn't tell her.
Instead he raised his familiar defences /hey had a lot of practice/ and smiled at her. "I guess I am missing her yeah."
She gazed at him sympathetically "I know it doesn't feel like it now, but maybe it really is for the best."
"How?" he asked, genuinely perplexed. How could it be for the best that the one girl he might have actually had a shot at living reasonably happy ever after with had walked out? Besides if Anya had been around, the chances were none of this Spike madness would have happened. He'd still be in ignorance of the dark, hungry look Spike's'eyes got when his pace became frantic, wouldn't know how it felt to be stretched so wide it seemed impossible that he'd ever get back to what he was . . .he tuned back into Willow quickly.
"I mean it wasn't love was it? Not really?"
"Well, maybe, kind of . . ." Had he loved Anya? He didn't know. He knew life had been better with her in it, he knew he missed her, knew it had hurt like hell when she'd left. Was that love? A kind of love he guessed. But not *in* love. Not passionate. The only passion he and Anya had had was in the bedroom, but that wasn't being passionate about her, that was just bodies. Whatever it was, it was as close as he thought he could get to being in love, as much as he could give.
"Whatever it was Will it wasn't enough for her. It was all I could give though. Probably won't be enough for anyone." He concluded painfully. /So useless. Such a failure./
"Don't say that! You will fall in love, completely one day, and all those barriers you think you need? You'll want to take them down, cos you'll just know, this is the person you can't do without."
"It's a nice thought Will."
"It'll happen, best friend promise."
Xander smiled as he remembered the best friend promise they had devised and they solemnly shook thumbs. Then he pulled her close in a hug.
"Love ya Will."
"Aww Xander!" She hugged him back hard, and he wondered briefly how differently his life might have turned out if he had noticed Willow back when she thought he was the greatest guy in the world. That would have been sweet. No Spike madness there. /And you thought *Cordelia* was against all laws of God and man, Wills, if you only knew./ He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to push the memory of Spike away, just for a few moments.
"So where's Buffy?" He asked as they released each other, trying to distract her from the truth he felt sure was written on his face.
Willow rolled her eyes. "Where she always is."
***
In the graveyard with a surge of satisfaction Buffy dusted her second vampire of the night, and looked up just in time to see a third launch straight for her. She raised her stake, but before she had time to begin to fight, the vampires eyes widened in shock and it burst into dust.
She looked down at her stake in confusion, then up to see Spike smirking at her, showily brandishing his stake. A surge of annoyance flooded through her.
"Spike! What the hell are you doing here?"
Spike felt a weird kind of joy that she was there, in front of him, talking to him, albeit a through clenched teeth kind of deal. /Now, now, hate the bitch, hate the bitch, hate the bitch . . ./
"Slaying, Slayer, same as yourself, enjoying it?"
"I was. What do you want?" She willed herself not to react as Spike openly leered at her /eww shouldn't have said that eww Spike likes me eww/
"To save the world from the evil undead" he dead panned letting his eyes flick appreciatively over her lithe form, noticing her eyes were bright with satisfaction from the kill.
"Looks more like lurking to me." She challenged her arms folded. /Yuck. This is beyond creepy and disgusting, how long has he been watching me?/
See there was a sentence she didn't have to say! She was talking to him. She was coming round, getting used to the idea that there was something between them.
"Well if you want me to lurk . . ."
The pull of her was still strong. If she'd only let him, he could be good to her wouldn't hurt her stupid friend, wouldn't hurt her, it still wasn't too late, they could all still get out of this with a minimum of heartache . . .
"Spike, I don't want you to lurk. I don't want you near me. I *hate* you. The only thing I want from you is out of this town, out of my life, and if I could wipe the memories as well I would, what isn't clear about that?"
Snippy little bint! The pain that had settled into a kind of simmering ache at her rejection of him flared up again, ripping through him. "Fine! But don't blame me when I finish what I'm doing!"
"What reaching new levels of patheticness? Cos I have to say you're already way ahead of anyone I know!"
"Oh yeah? What about Xander?" Shit! He hadn't meant to say that it had just slipped out. /Not yet for Gods sake, not yet, it's too soon./
"You leave my friends out of this. He's way more of a man than you'll ever be."
/Yeah and last week your manly little friend was letting me break in that virgin ass of his and begging for more. How manly do you think that is bitch?/
"And if he knew that you'd tried anything with me . . ." Buffy continued.
"But he doesn't. And you're not going to tell him" he blurted out quickly. /He can't know, if you fucking dare tell him . . ./
Buffy rolled her eyes. "As if I'm going to talk about it. I don't even want to think about it."
"Whatever you say Slayer." He turned away from her, hiding his relief.
"I mean it Spike!" She called after him, "Off this planet remember!"
He ignored her as he stalked away. Lighting up a smoke when he got away from her. Fine so the revenge plan was still all systems go. Just thought he'd give her a chance to change her mind, try and be all decent like. Give her a chance to save her friend. She didn't want it. Suited him fine. Bitch.
It was just . . .he'd really been hoping she'd come round, and not just because he still wanted her under all the hate he was carefully nurturing. He'd almost hoped he wouldn't have to go on with this. The lad was unsettling. Spike hadn't expected to feel so . . .carried away. Yeah he'd expected to enjoy it, but he'd thought it would be the idea of screwing Buffy that really got him turned on. But he hadn't thought of her at all. Instead Xander had been all he could think about, all he could see, all he could feel. He cursed softly as his cock began to throb insistently as he remembered Xander under him, his eyes dazed, his mouth soft and wet and open. All that scorching heat and tightness.. . his hand tangled in Xander's soft dark hair as they kissed, frantic with need. Need Goddamnit! Need wasn't part of this fucking plan! Even now, even while he was giving her the chance to let him out of this with his pride intact he barely knew how to wait for the next time. And he didn't like that. In fact he fucking hated it. Not that he was going to get out of his depth or anything, of course not, not with Xander for Gods sake, okay so it had been a good /fucking incredible/ shag, no need to go nuts. But still . . .
It had been painfully exciting.
He shook his head in confusion, what the hell was wrong with him? This was the perfect plan, and it was all working beautifully. So the lad was better in bed than he'd expected, that was no reason to stop, it just made it more fun for him. Besides the better the sex was, the harder it'd be for Xander to say no, which would make Xander hate him all the more every time he shagged him into the floor and left. Right. The perfect plan.
Right then. He'd best go and find his little nummy treat. He'd kept his distance for a few days, aware that Xander probably hated him so much right now he'd be staked on sight, but he'd waited long enough damn it. Anyway he'd proven he could take the boy, proven that he still had nothing but contempt for him. Now it was time to show the lad that this wasn't going to be stopped, no matter how much he might think he wanted to. That this would be over when Spike said so.
Only when Spike said so.
Willow left Xander less than reassured about him. He'd looked a little better, but she knew something was wrong, it was just so hard to get Xander to talk about stuff that was upsetting him. He kind of had this thing were if he thought if he covered it up with jokes he could fool everyone that everything was ok. More importantly fool himself that everything was ok, and while she didn't agree with it, it was his way and she respected that. But lately he hadn't even been making jokes, it was like things had gone so wrong Xander couldn't even fool himself anymore. It was probably that Anya leaving was upsetting him too much to keep his defences all the way up.
She made her way across the road, then paused, slapping her hand to her head as she remembered her new spell book she'd left in Xander's apartment. For a moment she hesitated, she really didn't want to leave it any later before going back home to Tara, she could get the book another time, but then again she had only just got it, she would like to look at it tonight . . .
She turned back to Xander's and stopped dead as she saw Spike stride into the building. He was unmistakable, the streetlights picking out his sharp cheekbones, reflecting off his bleached hair. Open mouthed she watched as he confidently entered the building.
Why was Spike going to see Xander? As far as she knew they loathed each other. . .He was probably going to try and borrow money or something, but Xander didn't need Spike in his face right now. On the other hand Spike bugging him might give Xander a little fighting spirit. She made her way towards the window to see what was going on, if Xander looked like he couldn't deal she'd tap on the window and ask Xander to pass the spell book to her, and mention it might be a very nice idea for Spike to get the hell away from him and walk her home. If Xander looked okay she'd just leave them to it . . .
Peering through the window she saw Xander apparently yelling at Spike, nothing new there, but Spike was inside, that was weird, Xander had never mentioned he'd given Spike an invite. She wished she could hear what Xander was yelling, Spike was lounging against the wall, looking at him with an expression she couldn't quite place, and wasn't sure she liked, amusement, and . . .she didn't know . . .maybe complacency? /Like the cat that's got the cream, like it doesn't matter what Xander's saying, cos Spike knows its going to work out the way he wants it/. Fascinated she leaned a little closer. Spike raised a hand to Xander, not violently though, slowly, she couldn't see properly, Xander's body was blocking her view, maybe flipping him off or something because Xander jumped back sharply, turned away from Spike and gestured to the door again.
She dithered, should she interrupt or leave? A sudden sound of movement behind her made her jump, whirling around, her heart pounding she saw a crowd of young girls laughing as they wandered down the street.
However it was a reminder that Sunnydale wasn't the safest place to hang around at night. Whatever Spike wanted he was harmless, irritating, but harmless. Xander would be fine. She might not be if she carried on hanging around in the dark.
She decided against getting the book, she just wanted to get straight home, reluctantly tearing her eyes away, she began the walk home.
***
Xander noticed Willow's spell book a moment or two after she left, when he heard the knock at the door he just assumed she'd come back for it. With a light hearted remark on his lips he flung the door open . . .to Spike.
For a moment he froze, taking in the bleached hair, the pale skin. Then he slammed the door. Too late. Spike had already jammed his foot in the way. There was a shamefully brief pushing match, and Spike was inside, kicking the door shut behind him.
"Out!" Xander yelled.
"You know" Spike said with a smirk, "You're beautiful when you're angry."
"Spike I'm not joking, if you don't get out now I'll . ."
"What? Let me have a hell of a shag like you did last week?"
"Shut up and get out!" Xander yelled, borderlining on hysteria.
"Tut, tut, lover," he sighed with mock sorrow "I'd almost think you were ashamed of what happened or something if you keep talking like that."
'Ashamed doesn't begin to cover it, I'm not your lover and again I say get OUT!"
"Can't mate." He watched Xander through half lidded eyes. He wasn't joking before, Xander was beautiful when he was angry. Not as beautiful as he could be though. Naked, sweating and riding Spike's cock . . .and he was so close to having all that, just as soon as they got this pointless yelling out of the way. He felt his breath catch, cleared his throat as he finished. " I had to come back."
Xander glared at Spike. He was leaning against the wall, watching Xander with that smug look that set Xander's blood straight to boil. At this moment he didn't think he'd ever hated anyone more in his life because Spike had left, he'd just *left*, and no he hadn't been expecting true love or even a 'kind of like you', but something, not for Spike to actually try and make him feel like shit, and now he strolled back in after a week, a week Xander had spent feeling scared, lonely, ashamed and used and he expected a replay?
Xander advanced until they were nearly nose to nose. "What do you just want another shot at making me feel like a complete whore?" he spat into Spike's face furiously; "because I have to say you did a pretty good job of that last week, you really don't need a second go!" He was shaking, his fists clenched, so close to punching Spike in the face, except if he did that he wouldn't be able to stop, would have to beat him to a bloody pulp, and then maybe give him a taste of his own medicine? See how *he* liked being fucked for Xander's pleasure.
And that wasn't him. Wouldn't ever let that be him. He doesn't get mad and hit people, especially if they can't hit back, no matter how much they deserve it. So he let his nails dig into his hands clinging on to his temper, but though he could control his fists he couldn't control his voice, it was full of anger and hate . . .and hurt.
Maybe Spike heard that, or maybe he was just standing a little closer than he should because the smirk vanished as Spike stared at Xander's mouth, his eyes darkening.
"I didn't make you feel anything mate," he said slightly huskily. "I don't control your bloody feelings. All I did was make you feel this . . ."
He raised his finger, stroking down the side of Xander's face, Xander leapt back like Spike had burned him, and in a way it felt like he had, he could still feel the path of Spike's finger down his cheek. /don't let Spike touch me/. It was a simple rule for self preservation. Though it would probably be easier to walk through fire. A memory of Spike kneeling on the bed, sliding into him slammed into his brain, and he turned his back on Spike, his legs trembling, the desire that had been simmering for a week, hidden under the anger breaking free.
"Am I not saying this right?" Voice shaking, and he can feel the heat rising in him radiating throughout his body. Knows the fight, such as it was, is over. Can only hope Spike doesn't know. Will take his words at face value. Pointing at the door, not looking at Spike. "Out."
Silence. Then Spike's arms were sliding around his waist. The slim fingers that already know his body very much too well playing with him. One hand reaching under his T-shirt, teasing his nipples, the other freeing him from his jeans, and he should push Spike away, throw him out, but it seems like so much effort. Far easier to just stand here. Not moving, just watching those fingers, skilful and quick, touching him, manipulating him, in more ways than one, and he's never felt so alone, so completely helpless because he'd *sworn*, never him, no, no abusive people in relationships with him. And what happened? Spike comes along with the his bleached hair, black leather wearing, universal, bad boy uniform and Xander had caved. Couldn't even throw him out now, because, deep down, he just didn't want to. Spike began to kiss up his neck, as those fingers finished unbuttoning him and he's so hard already, his breath beginning to come in pants as Spike began to jack him off. Slow and steady. Spike pulls him closer so he's leaning against Spike a little harder and he can feel Spike's erection pressing into his backside as Spike starts rocking his hips against him. Eyes closed. Can't watch that hand touching him like that anymore.
And yeah, there were a million and one reasons to throw him out, but put them all together and they still couldn't come close to this, this overpowering *want*, this need deep inside him. This need that he couldn't seem to fight. And as much as he hated Spike, he hated himself more for not being able to stop it. And what did that make him? Some sick weirdo who got off on being treated badly?
Still keeping his eyes closed. Maybe it wasn't happening if his eyes were closed. So desperately tired, he didn't want to fight, but he didn't want to be here either. Right now all he wanted was to just wish it all away.
Unresisting, not saying anything as Spike bundled him into the bedroom, stripping him, stripping himself, what would be the point? He obviously wants this, otherwise he wouldn't be here, and Spike could see through any resistance in a second. But he can't bring himself to respond. Even when Spike is on him again, and it's like he's been burning up and he never even noticed until Spike's cool skin was on him. Not responding. Fine, /Just do it Spike, just get it over with, you've already made your point, but do it again just to prove how pathetic I am./
His eyes were stinging and his throat ached. His mom used to buy him ice-cream when his throat hurt he remembered. Comfort food. Once she'd taken him and Willow to the fair and he'd told Willow the best way to get ice cream was to pretend to be ill. His mom had known exactly what they were up to of course. But she'd been cool about it, not pretended to take them home or anything, just laughed, still got them the ice cream.
Nice days those days.
Safe days. Hadn't felt safe for a long time.
Spike was dizzy, his head whirling with excitement, as he quickly slicked himself. He hadn't thought getting back into Xander's bed would be so easy. He'd spotted Red through the window and as he'd hung around outside chain smoking, waiting for her to leave his anticipation cranking up notch by painful notch he'd imagined how the night would go. He'd been prepared for a hell of a fight, roaring rage from Xander and finally grappling to the floor in a heat of lust and anger, instead after some token protesting they were both naked, and he was harder than hell, and Xander was right there, underneath him. He pressed himself flush against Xander, revelling in the feel of his skin, scorching hot and silky with the hard muscles underneath not fighting. Smart lad.
Not fighting . . . or even moving at all. Still. Very still. What the hell . . .? Spike kissed him hard, passionately, aching for this, for the contact, that like it or not, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about. But he wasn't being kissed back.
Spike broke the kiss, pushed himself up, looking down at Xander with frustration. His face was pressed against the pillow, his eyes tightly shut, like he was trying to block it all out. Like he was trying not to cry. Spike clenched his fists, this wasn't it! It was no fun to fuck a responseless piece of flesh. He felt mad as hell, what was Xander playing at?
/Playing at being away from you/. A voice in his head spoke up, and he froze. Remembering Dru. She used to do that, not with him, but with Angelus before he turned her. Taking her mind away to some safe place while her body lay still and passive, taking whatever he dished out. He could almost hear her telling him about Angelus.
"He wanted to do so many things, go places he shouldn't go the bad vampire. I used to go away to happy places where he wasn't and play with kittens and ducks until he'd gone. Because I was so bad urrrgghhh! Dirty girl in bed with the vampire. And when I came back, he'd left his mark between my legs."
He looked down in dismay. Xander actually wanted him gone. This wasn't a violent protest covering up hidden passion. This was Xander actually wanting him gone, this whole situation to just vanish. /What does it matter?/ A voice in his head questioned. /Just shag him. He's not going to try and stop you. Flicking his eyes between Xander's thighs. The erection gone. No scent of arousal. Just lying there, waiting for Spike to use him in any way he wanted. He wasn't going to fight. Or even respond. And that disappointed him more than he could have believed. Lying passive wasn't good enough. He wanted Xander totally involved here. Wanted him looking at Spike the way he had last time, all hurt and fire, body and mind totally caught up in what Spike was doing. Wanted him to love it, want it, crave it more than anything.
Pushing aside his own need for the moment he licked up Xander's neck, he tasted like salt, like tears.
"Xannnder" he crooned. "Don't be like this." He began to rain kisses, gentle bites over Xander's face, his cheeks, lips and eyelids. Mouthing down his neck. Trailing kisses down his face again, the hidden pain and unreleased tears making him taste oh so sweet, and maybe he's taking the kisses as comforting because this time when he brushes a kiss over Xander's mouth, he feels the lips part slightly in response. Not stopping though, can feel Xander's cock twitching unfurling against his thigh, feels triumph and relief flood though him and moves his mouth down Xander's chest, letting his tongue trace in patterns over his hot skin. Pausing to lavish kisses and licks on his nipples that harden instantly.
"Please Xan," he whispered, moving up again, keeping him guessing as to where he was going to kiss, suck next, licking around Xander's ear "be like you were last time. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, fucking you, feeling you . . ."
Feeling Xander's arousal. Hard and heavy brush against him. Letting his cock push against Xander's feeling the lads tiny instinctive jump forwards for just that little bit more contact.
Eyes still closed though. No sound coming from him yet. And he wanted that, craved it. Needed to hear his boy. /Easy, easy, don't rush/ he chided himself. Lapped down again. Across his hips, licks up his thigh, a whispered moan fled from Xander, and his cock twitched towards Spikes mouth.
Spike paused for a moment. He really shouldn't do this for him. Really shouldn't, but he wanted to taste Xander so badly, wanted the lad desperate and begging for him.
Shivering at the feel of Spike licking up his thigh, Xander tried to push his mind back to that place where there was no Spike, no hurt, but Spike was hauling him back here where there was pain and hate and sweet gentle bites and kisses and /Omigod can't be happening, Spike can't be doing *that* to me!/, but he definitely is and *oh god* . Spike's mouth is cool and oh so *wet* his cocks just in this wet, sucking place and the only thing that matters right now is the way it's slipping over his cock and the tongue that's running up and down his shaft, lashing around the head and a light scrape of teeth there, and he's lost any ideas about how to switch off from this, because why would he want to, feels his back arching, then a finger touching him, flicking at his entrance and he's making those noises again, those gasping, pleading cries as he feels it slide in, slippery, bites back a shout and he is Losing. His. Mind, and Spike's sucking harder now, one hand pumping Xander into his mouth the other with fingers thrusting in and out of him and everythings tense, from his fingers clenched so tight they were aching, to cock, rock hard and oh so nearly there, to buttocks squeezed tight around Spike's finger and his breaths coming in loud harsh pants and not gonna last, not gonna last. . .
And Spike's lifting his mouth off, stopping the thrusting with his fingers.
"Want me to stop?"
Watching Xander's reaction with hungry eyes as he shakes his head and whimpers nonono.
"You with me here Xander?" Knows the answer will be yes, but wants to hear him say it. Xander seems to have lost the ability to form words, but the half sob of frustration and the hips bucking helplessly are good enough and he leans down, taking him in hard and fast and he's *yelling* shooting load afer load of precome, shudders, gasps, comes hard and shaking into Spike's mouth.
Spike swallowed the last of Xander's orgasm, feeling his own need surge through him at the taste of it. Sliding himself up Xander's body and. Oh yes. Xander's wrapping his legs around Spike's waist, pressing into him as he looks up at him with those huge, aching eyes, full of shock and want. Asking to be filled, and he wants to sink into him, but forces himself to hold back, just for a moment. Balances himself one handed over Xander, cock in hand. Right. There.
"Do you want me inside you Xander? " Asked hoarsely, knows Xander wants this, but needs to hear the words, and Xander's looking at him, those dark eyes all confusion and lust, fuel for Spike's ego but this wasn't as much fun as Spike had thought it'd be. /If he doesn't hurry up and say it within exactly 20 seconds I'm gonna ram myself in him and fuck him so hard he'll pass out/ Spike felt his hips thrust against Xander uncontrollably, couldn't stop them, moaned and almost hates Xander for doing this to him. Making him feel so out of control.
Staring up at Spike, can see the look on his face, rigid control and anger, and could it be . . .pleading? Wonders what would happen if he said no. Knows he won't. And maybe Spike was trying to prove something, but he knows from the look on Spike's face that this isn't entirely Spike's round. Knows when this is over he's gonna regret it and doesn't care.
Because well, over.
Over is impossible to imagine right now.
"Yes . ..I want . . . you. In me." Pauses. Swallows, says it, voice trembling. "Fuck me."
Spike shuddered. Hears a small unintelligible noise knows it's come from him, but he can't think of anything to do about that. Giving into their need, he finally let himself sink into Xander, taking a moment to thank god that he's already slicked, otherwise Xander would be taking it rough, cause he couldn't stop now if the Hellmouth itself was opening.
"Oh, yessssss." Xander's hissing it between clenched teeth as he arches up towards Spike because maybe it actually does hurt a little less this time, or maybe he just has a better idea of what to expect, and how has he done without this for nearly a week? And it's just like he remembered hurt and good, and somehow too much and not enough all at once and knows Spike is feeling it too because he's pressed against him shaking all over.
"Oh hell, Xander," Spike moans against his neck. " 'S been too long. Want you so bad."And it's like Spike is reading his mind, and maybe there is something there, some connection, or it could just be pure sex need, and he just has to *touch* Spike. Pulling him up, stares at him for a second, those blue eyes dilated and dazed, makes his breath coming in shuddering gasps, then kisses him.
Spike was shocked still for a moment, then opened his mouth, sinking into the kiss. And where the hell did Xander learn to kiss like that? Mouth as hot as he remembered, sucking on his bottom lip and Xander's whimpering, tongues dancing, mouths retreating for scant seconds, returning, and haven't kissed him like this before, slow, gentle and deep, can taste coffee and chocolate and under it something that's Xander himself, and it's even hotter and sweeter than coffee and chocolate.
And Spike's feeling something inside him execute a long, sweet roll over in his stomach and it has nothing to do with fucking. Pulls back from Xander's mouth for a moment.
"What kind of a kiss was that?" Spike asked, half jokingly, half seriously. Trying to stay in a place where there's reason and control, except he's sheathed in Xander who's holding him a velvet vice, gazing up at him with huge eyes and his mouth is swollen and begging to be kissed again and reason and control are just meaningless words. Begins to understand how Xander's been feeling ever since this began and isn't sure that he likes it.
"A good one?" Brow furrowed in confusion as to why it's stopped and Spike feels a smile pull at his lips, sees Xander's curve in response, and falls back into the kiss. Lets himself melt into the body under him and his hips began the steady pull and thrust and Xander's moaning into his mouth and can't believe how good this feels this hard hot rhythm and now Xander's sliding the hand that wasn't in his hair down his back, on his ass, trying to pull him in deeper and Spike bucks, gasps. Mouths breaking apart as he shifted to balance on both hands and really let go.
Heat, so much, drowning in this heat, and this is gonna be over too fast and he should slow down a little but he can't, just can't, feeling the need, the mindless aching want to get *in*, something he'd thought he'd lost long ago in just too many years of having sex and what the hell does Xander *do* that leads to over a hundred years of control just flying out the window? Because oh hell, he just can't go slow, can't do it, has to get in, has to see that body arch, has to hear the screams . . .
Xander knows he's making gaspy, pained sounds again, but can't think of anything to do about that, body is a thrusting, lighting rod of pain and good and just when he thought he could handle this Spike takes it up another level and it *hurts*. Hurts like a *bitch*, but oh, it hurts so *good* and he's got his legs wrapped around Spike and Spike is thrusting so hard it's almost like he's trying to throw Xander off, but he meets him on time with every thrust, and he's in so deep, and just keeps getting deeper with every movement, and wishes he hadn't only just come because he wants to come with Spike, and his prostate yelling for more and his cock trying to rise to the challenge and he is. Going. To. Die, and who the hell cares . . .
"Ohh, yes Spike . . ." Cried out on a wail and Spike has never heard anything sound better.
"Say it again, say my name." Not begging, demanding, but maybe Xander hears it as begging because he holds on a little tighter, pushes up harder and says it, no screams it again.
"Spike! Spike that's, oh that's so goooooood."
And Spike is throwing his head back and yelling,
"Ahhhh!Yessssss!" and Xander doesn't think he could ever see that enough, Spike losing that control of his as he comes inside *him*, and can feel the coolness slipping around inside him as they slow, stop.
Continued in the next part
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