This is the fifth in my 'Five Ways Spike and Xander Didn't Meet' series, but it's got a totally different style from the others. Also, it's quite a bit longer. Enjoy! *g*

Title: Vamp!Xander and William
Series: Five Ways Spike and Xander Didn’t Meet
Author: Spikedluv
Fandom: BtVS
Rating: NC17/Slash
Pairing: Spike/Xander, Spike/Vamp!Xander, William/Vamp!Xander, Vamp!William/Vamp!Xander, Vamp!William/Xander
Length: 8520 words
Spoilers: Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, Becoming Part I & II and Fool For Love, specifically. The entire series, generally, to be on the safe side.
Notes: Character death...of a sort. *g* This story has three distinct parts, and each part is written in a slightly different style. Some dialogue was taken directly from ‘Fool For Love’. Written for fall_for_sx.
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Thanks: To truly_tazi for throwing ideas around with me and for looking over the first part. You are truly a gem among, uh, other shiny stuff.
Written: December 3, 2005

Five Ways Spike and Xander Didn't Meet

by
Spikedluv

Vamp!Xander and William

Summary: When the world goes to Hell, Xander’s sent back to try and fix things.

Xander had been living at the mansion with Angelus, Drusilla and Spike since that fateful day in February when he’d made Amy do the love spell, which had worked out just as well as most of his plans did. Hence, the living in the mansion with the three vampires.

Actually, he’d mostly lived with Spike. Drusilla had forgotten about him after the first day, and Angelus had laughed cruelly as he’d dragged Xander over to Spike’s wheelchair and thrown him on the floor.

“What’s that?”

“Your gift. I gave him to you once before, but you let him get away. Now, don’t say I never gave you anything.” Angel had patted Spike on the cheek, and Spike had glared at him, pulling away from the patronizing gesture.

“What am I going to do with him?”

“Eat him.”

Xander had shuddered at the careless way Angelus had just offered him to Spike for a meal, knowing that he was nothing to them. And less than nothing to Angelus, if not for his ties to Buffy.

“Or play with him. I don’t care.”

Angelus had turned back at the doorway. “Consider him something to keep you busy while I’m taking care of Dru for you.”

“Bloody wanker.” Spike had snarled, but been helpless to do anything.

Xander’s blood had nearly frozen when Spike turned amber eyes onto him.

“What are you looking at?”

“N-nothing.”

As if he was suddenly a different man—vampire—Spike had relaxed back into his chair. “What am I going to do with you?” he’d mused.

“You could make me go home.”

Spike had laughed, but somehow Xander hadn’t felt reassured by that.

And he’d been right, because for the past three months he’d been Spike’s errand boy. He’d helped Spike bathe and dress, and unbeknownst to Angelus or Drusilla, helped Spike to relearn to walk again. The thing he’d hated most was removing the bodies after Spike had fed.

A week into their symbiotic relationship—Xander helped Spike and Spike let Xander live—Spike had looked up from the girl thrown across his useless legs and said, “You can save her.”

“How?”

He’d shuddered with revulsion when Spike’s eyes drifted to his neck, and opened his mouth to say ‘no’, but then he’d looked at the girl. She’d appeared to be about nineteen and long red hair had been matted with fear-sweat, her UC Sunnydale sweatshirt striped with dirt from where she’d fallen running from Spike’s minions.

“All right,” he’d said.

Spike had smirked and pushed her off his lap to fall in a heap at his feet.

She’d scrambled to her knees and crawled away from Spike as quickly as she could.

“Show her to the front door, and then get back here. Two minutes.”

Xander had helped her to her feet and took her to the front door. No one had tried to stop them. He’d thought about leaving with her, but had known that he had no choice but to stay if he wanted to keep his friends safe. That hadn’t stopped him from staring after her, wistful, as she ran down the street.

When he’d returned to Spike, he’d asked, “Are you going to kill me?”

Spike’s, “Who’d draw my bath water?” hadn’t been nearly as reassuring as it might seem.

He’d pulled Xander down onto his lap, and briefly nuzzled Xander’s neck before morphing and sinking his fangs into him.

The pain had been excruciating, but had slowly dulled as Spike suckled at the bite. He hadn’t been able to feel the blood leaving his body, but he had gotten lightheaded. He remembered thinking, “He lied, he’s going to kill me,” just before Spike touched him through his pants. He’d cried out in surprise and desire, his fear of dying having been overwhelming enough to block out the building arousal, and came in his pants. He’d passed out to the sound of Spike moaning against his neck.

He’d awoken naked, beside Spike in the large bed. Spike had still been sleeping, so he’d showered and dressed in the clean clothes that had been left for him. Nothing was said, even after Spike had risen, but Xander couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened.

The next time Spike offered to spare a life, it had been a twelve year old boy who Drusilla had brought back for Spike after killing his two year old sister. Xander had been horrified, and had eagerly accepted the offer, glad that he’d been able to blame his willingness to sacrifice himself on the child.

The third time it had been a fifty-two year old grandmother of two, and instead of drawing Xander down onto his lap, he’d had Xander help him onto the bed and remove both of their clothes so that Spike could touch him while he fed. He’d come with Spike’s fangs in his neck and his fingers up his ass.

After that, there’d been only the pretense of saving innocent lives, though Xander had been grateful that Spike had allowed it to remain. A balm to what remained of his conscience, though it had been eroded by regular, mind-blowing orgasms.

He’d spent every night thereafter in Spike’s bed, mostly as a bed warmer, and every three or four days Spike had fed from him, bringing Xander off with fang and finger.

The first time Spike had felt a stirring of interest, he’d pushed Xander’s head down until he’d come face-to-face with Spike’s thickening cock. Without waiting to be told, he’d licked it, then sucked it, his inexpert attentions bringing Spike to a release that the heavy hand on his head had forced him to swallow.

Though he’d continued to warm Spike’s bed, his inactive days had been over. Spike had fucked him nearly every night. At first, Xander had been on top, riding Spike until he thought he’d die from the burn in his muscles, the ache in his ass, and the denied release. Spike—the sadistic bastard—had bought a cock cage that allowed Xander to get hard, but not to come, and would only remove it on the nights he’d fed from Xander.

Xander had known that Spike was training him, but by the time he’d been allowed to come, he hadn’t cared. One time Spike had waited a week to feed from him, and Xander had begged him every night to choose him, to let him take the place of another innocent, to let him come.

The first time Spike had been able to lie on top of Xander and penetrate him had been magnificent. Xander had still had to do a lot of the work, but the feel of Spike over him had been worth it. As the strength in Spike’s legs returned, so had his libido, and he’d refused to allow Xander to wear clothes while in their room. Xander complained, but it was half-hearted, at best.

Spike’s progress moved in leaps and bounds after that, and Xander had noted each step in his mind: the first time Spike had forced Xander to his hands and knees, knelt behind him and fucked him until they both passed out, or the first time Spike had been able to fuck him in the shower, standing up.

Sadly, Xander had stopped paying attention to Angelus and Drusilla except when he had to, so Spike’s muttered, “Ponce wants to end the bloody world,” had come as a shock. Spike had brooded about it all night. The next day, when Spike had taken him to bed, he’d said, “Sorry, Pet, but I need your help, and I need you strong,” and while Xander came, Spike had bled him dry, then fed him from his wrist.

He’d been Spike’s backup the night he’d gone to meet with Buffy, staking one of Angelus’ spies before it had a chance to harm his sire, and when Angelus’ attention had been focused on Buffy, he’d been sent to free Giles. He’d returned just in time to see Drusilla realize that Spike had betrayed Angelus to the Slayer.

He’d been strong, as Spike had needed, but not nearly fast enough to beat the stake she’d drawn from within her clothing.

“Noooo!” he’d screamed, still trying to reach Spike, but had suddenly been struck by an excruciating pain in his chest. He’d fallen to the floor as images of blood, the lives he’d taken in his short time as a vampire, filled his head, and pain and sorrow filled his heart, yet he’d still called out for Spike. “Sire!”

Spike, only recently able to walk once more, had been no match for Drusilla in a rage, and Xander had sobbed as Spike’s dust rained down around him.

Drusilla had turned eyes amber with malice upon him, but left him to go help Angelus in his battle with Buffy.

“Oh, Spike,” Xander whispered, his hand reaching for the pile of dust, “Sire, I wish I could change all this.”

And then everything went to Hell.

Xander stumbled, then caught himself. He immediately looked around for Spike, then remembered that Drusilla had dusted him. There was a brief stab of grief, which he tried to shake off until he could figure out what was going on. Xander took a moment to survey his surroundings, having no idea where he’d suddenly appeared. In the middle of a party, he could tell that much, but everyone was dressed differently, and they all talked funny.

He looked down just to make sure and, yep, he was still dressed in black jeans and a red button-down shirt over a black wife beater. Spike had fucked Xander for a day and a half, never allowing him to come, when Xander had suggested that Spike wanted them to dress alike. His gritted, “I just like the bloody colors,” had been lost somewhere orgasm number seven for Spike and lights out for Xander. Thankfully vampire healing had kicked in so he could actually walk the next day.

Speaking of which.... Xander felt for his pulse. Nothing. He sniffed and smelled the blood pumping through the humans surrounding him. So, he might not know where he was, or how he’d gotten there, but he knew he was still a vampire. He tried to remember when was the last time he’d eaten.

Xander slunk back into the shadows when one of the serving girls passed too closely. It wouldn’t do to be discovered at a party he hadn’t been invited to, especially in these clothes. He breathed deeply as she passed, savoring the scent of human blood. He was, he realized, quite hungry, but he had no urge to feed upon her. He checked again for a pulse, just in case he’d missed it, but then remembered the awful pain he’d felt just before Drusilla had dusted Spike.

He remembered Drusilla going on about how Miss Calendar was planning to re-soul Angelus, but he’d killed her before she could attempt it. Xander wondered now if someone else had tried the spell in a last ditch effort to keep Angelus from bringing forth Acathla, and had somehow re-ensouled him, instead.

His musings were cut short when he caught sight of a young man about his height heading out of the room. He had a drink in his hand and wove a bit, so Xander hoped he was heading for the bathroom. Or whatever qualified as a bathroom in these parts.

Xander followed the inebriated man and snuck up behind him, pushing him into one of the rooms they passed. The soul, if in fact he had one, didn’t keep him from knocking the man out and stripping him of his clothing. Once he’d changed, Xander moved to check out his appearance in the mirror, only to belatedly remember that he didn’t have a reflection.

He made his way back to the gathering, took a drink off one of the serving trays so he wouldn’t look out of place, and circled the room, looking and listening for anything that might explain his presence here. Halfway through his second circuit, Xander’s attention was caught by a young man sitting alone, muttering to himself as he wrote on the top page of several pieces of paper he held in his hand. He was too far away to hear what the man was saying.

Xander turned to continue on his way, but something drew him to the young man. He moved closer, stopping when he got up and walked towards a group of party-goers. He had to pass by Xander, and if he’d had to breathe, Xander would have been unable to. Now that he was standing, his face not tilted down and hidden by the unruly mop of curls atop his head, Xander recognized Spike. Or the man Spike was before he was turned.

He felt a pain in his chest as he remembered Spike, remembered how his existence had been ended, and remembered his own last words, “Oh, Spike, Sire, I wish I could change all this.”

Xander found it difficult to believe that a mere wish had resulted in his appearance here, but he’d been born and raised on the Hellmouth and knew better than to rule out anything.

He followed Spike at a distance, wanting to stay close without being discovered. Again, he was too far away to hear the words, but he could tell that the men in the group were making sport of Spike from their laughter and the expression on his face.

When Spike left the group in pursuit of a young lady, Xander followed, passing the men in time to hear one say, “Have you heard? They call him William the Bloody because of his bloody awful poetry!”

Another replied, “It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff!”

Xander shuddered as he realized that Spike, once turned, had made those words a reality. Before he reached the room into which the young woman and Spike, or William, had disappeared, she came rushing out. Xander stepped into the room to see a disconsolate William. He wanted to approach him, but had no idea what to say. Before he could make up his mind, William left the room as well.

Xander followed him when he left the party, hoping to discover where he lived. William staggered tearfully down the street, ripping up the sheets. He disappeared down an alley and Xander trailed him. Hidden, he watched William as he sat on a bale of hay and continued the task of ripping up his writings.

The sudden appearance of Drusilla standing before William brought Xander’s demon forth, but as much as he wanted revenge for the death of his sire, Xander stood transfixed.

“And I wonder,” she said, “what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?”

“Nothing. I wish to be alone.”

“Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength, his vision, his glory. That and burning baby fish swimming all around your head.”

William stood and backed away from her. “That's quite close enough. I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not be getting my purse, I tell you.”

Drusilla smiled. “Don't need a purse.” She pointed to his heart and head in succession. “Your wealth lies here...and here. In the spirit and...imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine.”

“Oh, yes! I mean, no. I mean, Mother's expecting me.”

“I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something...effulgent.”

“Effulgent,” William repeated.

“Do you want it?”

The words brought Xander out of the trance he’d fallen into. He had been sent back to change things. He could keep Drusilla from ever turning William. He felt sorrow at the thought that he’d never meet his sire, but it was more important to keep the world from being sucked into Hell.

“Oh, yes!” William reached out and touched her chest. “God, yes.”

Drusilla morphed into her demon, but before she could bite William, Xander stepped out of the shadows. With their attention on each other, neither one was aware of him until William was choking on a cloud of dust.

William shook his head, as if coming out of a trance. “What just happened? Where’d she go?” he asked between coughs.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you. What, what was that?”

“That was a monster,” Xander said, “though she had the face of an angel. Come on, we should get you home.”

“Do you think there are more?”

Xander hadn’t thought about that, but where Drusilla was, Angelus had to be close. “There could be,” he said. “Don’t forget your papers.”

William looked back at the torn sheets, and for a moment Xander thought he was going to leave them, but he sighed and gathered them up.

“What were you doing there?” William asked, as they headed back they way they’d come.

Xander had never been good at lying. “I followed you,” he said.

William stopped walking. “You were at the party.”

“Yes.”

“I remember seeing you. Why were you following me? So you could continue to ridicule my poems....”

“No! I just, I wanted to speak with you, but....”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“Why?”

“I’m invited to these parties because my father had some standing when he was alive, not for my own company.”

“Then they’re fools,” Xander said, amazed to realize that he—his human self—and William had a lot in common. Not that his father had had any standing, but because they both felt like outcasts.

William just laughed, though it sounded bitter rather than as if he was truly enjoying himself.

Xander held his hand out. “My name is Alexander. Alexander Harris. But my friends call me Xander.”

William stared at his hand, then took it in his own. “William. William Covington. And I don’t have any friends.”

Xander clasped William’s hand tightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, William.” He laughed at William’s expression of disbelief. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

As they walked to William’s home, Xander told him that he’d never been to the city before, discovering that he was in London by William’s gasp of shock and his, “You mean you’ve never visited London before?” That led to Xander telling William that he was from America, and a discussion about his adventures there, which Xander had to make up based on what he could remember from history—not much—and the Western’s he’d watched.

At his front door, William said, “Where are you staying?”

Xander froze in shock, because he just hadn’t thought about that. “I.... I haven’t made arrangements,” he said. He’d have to find a barn, though not the one he’d staked Drusilla in, or basement in which he could hide for the day.

He came back to himself to realize that William had offered some suggestions. “I don’t....” Xander patted his pockets down and discovered a wallet that had been in the trousers when he purloined them. “Someplace cheap, er, inexpensive,” he said. “I don’t know how much money I have.” He pulled the wallet out. “And I’m unfamiliar with the currency, could you....?”

William pulled out a couple of the bills and coins and explained their monetary value to him, then directed him to a rooming house several blocks away.

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. I owe you my life, and this is paltry repayment.”

Xander grinned.

William stiffened. “You find me amusing?”

“I like the way you talk.” William blushed, and Xander felt moved to take his hand. “I don’t know how long I’ll be in, uh, London, but I’d like to see you again, if that’s all right.”

“P-perhaps you could, uh, join us for dinner tomorrow?”

Xander rubbed the back of William’s hand with his thumb. “I’d like that. What time?”

“Eight?”

“Eight it is. Inside with you, now.”

Xander watched William until the door closed behind him. He hoped that the sun would be down by eight. He turned and headed towards the rooming house William had suggested, wondering what he was going to do about feeding. Perhaps he could find a butcher; blood was blood, wasn’t it?

Deciding that he had time before the sun came up, Xander walked the streets, exploring and familiarizing himself with the establishments. He passed a newspaper, and stopped to look at the front page of the paper tacked to the window as a teaser to get you to buy the rest. The date, 1880, caught his eye, giving him pause.

He knew he’d gone back in time, but having it confirmed was as much shock as relief. He wondered why he was still there. He’d done as he’d wanted to do, changed the past, so why hadn’t he been returned to his own time?

Xander found the rooming house and took a room for a week. After hanging blankets over the curtained windows, he removed his shoes and borrowed clothes, leaving himself in his own underwear and undershirt, and got beneath the sheet.

The next day, he stopped at the butcher’s on his way to William’s house for dinner. He purchased one container and made arrangements to have another delivered to the rooming house each evening for the next week. Disappearing into the nearest alley, Xander drank the blood he’d just purchased. He was so hungry, he drank it all down at once without stopping.

When it was finished, he licked his lips, and then grimaced at the aftertaste. “Oh, god, that’s disgusting!”

Dinner that night had been interesting. Certainly nothing like the family dinners—when they’d had family dinners—at his house. William’s mother looked old, but Xander concluded that it was due to her illness. Despite looking feeble, her grip on Xander’s hand when she’d thanked him for saving William had been strong.

“Mum,” William said, blushing once more.

Xander just smiled and told her she was welcome.

After dinner, they went to the sitting room where she did needlepoint while they talked. Finally she put the fabric down and said, “I’m getting tired, William. I think I’m going to lie down for awhile. Why don’t you and Alexander go out?”

“I shouldn’t leave you if you’re feeling ill, Mother.”

“Nonsense, I just need to rest. I don’t need you here for that. Go have fun.”

“Perhaps a walk?” William had said.

After seeing his mother to her room, William showed Xander around the areas of London he was familiar with, pointing out places of interest. When the hour grew late, they returned to William’s home and said their goodbyes at the door.

“Will I see you again?”

Xander reached out and rubbed his thumb over William’s lower lip. “I’d like that. Have you ever been kissed, William?”

William’s sharp intake of breath tickled his thumb.

“There’s a party tomorrow night.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything to wear.”

William glanced down at the same outfit Xander’d been wearing from the night before.

“What you have on now would be fine. Perhaps just a cleaning.”

“Tomorrow night then?”

William nodded.

Xander stepped closer to William and lowered his head. “May I kiss you?”

William’s whispered, “Xander,” just before their lips met shot through Xander like lightning. He lifted his head after the lightest of brushes.

“You should get inside.”

“Or what?”

“I won’t be able to stop with a kiss.”

“Oh.”

“Are we still on for tomorrow, or have you changed your mind?”

“We’re still...on.”

Xander opened the door and pushed William inside. “Tomorrow, then.”

He left William and set out to see if he could learn anything about Angelus’s whereabouts. London was a large city, but there had to be someplace where he might hear some gossip. After stopping in at several pubs, Xander gave in and called it a night. At the rooming house, he left his clothes out to be cleaned, and washed out his underwear and undershirt in the basin.

Crawling naked beneath the sheet of the unmade bed, he closed his eyes and thought of William and Spike and in his head the two got mixed up and twisted around together, and when he came they were both fucking him, Spike’s cock driving into his ass as William, sweet William, gently fucked his mouth.

That night, Xander went by William’s to pick him up for their outing. When William’s hand hovered over his paper and pen, Xander said, “Leave them, you’ll be too busy to write tonight.”

William’s blush told Xander exactly what he thought he’d been talking about.

“Not that, you naughty boy,” Xander whispered. “Unless you want to.”

William was still stuttering when Xander dragged him out of the house. Off-balance, William was actually much less self-conscious, barely noticing the odd looks and comments he received once they’d arrived.

They spent the evening with William telling him about everyone at the party, and when asked, William introduced him as his friend, Alexander, from America.

Xander recognized a few of the people from the party two nights ago. And had he really only been here for two days? It seemed much longer. When he saw Angelus, his eyes at first past over him and Darla, then shot back.

Angelus was staring right at him.

Xander’s stomach dropped. Did he already know that Xander had dusted Drusilla?

But Angelus just looked at William and nodded his head, one vampire greeting another.

Xander nodded back, thankful his heart no longer beat to give away his agitation. He found an excuse soon after to leave.

“Were you not enjoying yourself?” William asked.

“Perhaps I just wanted to get you alone,” Xander replied, the sight of William’s blush, and the knowledge that he made no denial, sending a surge of desire through him.

William led them back to his home, but instead of saying goodbye on the front steps, invited Xander inside.

When William offered him a night cap, Xander cupped his face and kissed him.

William moaned against his lips and Xander slid his tongue over William’s, seeking entrance to the sweet promise of William’s mouth. William parted his lips and Xander deepened the kiss, licking and sucking and nibbling until both their knees were weak.

“I should go.”

William just looked at him, eyes bright with lust.

“But I’ll be thinking of you.”

When William remained silent, Xander said, “When I touch myself. Will you think of me, when you touch yourself?”

William’s blush was telling. “I don’t.... That’s not proper behavior for....”

“Have you never brought yourself off?” At William’s quizzical expression, Xander explained, “Touched yourself for pleasure.”

“I, uh, no, that’s....”

Christ, he’s a virgin! Xander thought. He captured William’s lips once more, and gently palmed the hard evidence of William’s arousal.

William whimpered, and Xander was glad he had vampire strength when he was suddenly left holding most of William’s weight.

“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he whispered, aroused beyond belief at the notion that he’d be the first one to touch William like this. He fumbled with William’s trousers until his hand was inside, delving beneath his drawers until warm, hard flesh filled his hand. William made a sound of protest as Xander’s cool fingers wrapped around him. “Sorry, sorry, they’ll warm up. Though soon you won’t care.”

Xander kissed William as he stroked his cock. Firm strokes, thumb brushing the sensitive head, until William was trembling in his arms, and then a loose fisting that gave just enough pleasure to keep William hard, but not enough to let him get off. Xander brought him to the edge three times before the smell and sound of William was too much for him and he had to finish William before Xander came without him.

With William’s warm spunk filling his hand, Xander pushed once against William’s hip and came in his pants. Xander reluctantly let go of William and withdrew his hand. The urge to taste this part of William was strong, and so he licked it clean. William’s moan in his ear, low and deep and full of sated desire, would keep him warm the rest of the night, despite the fact that his underwear would, of necessity, be damp again the next night when he got dressed.

William’s, “Come for dinner tomorrow?” as he was leaving drew Xander back the next night.

They played a game after dinner while William’s mother sat in her chair, her needlepoint in her lap, and told stories of William’s childhood, to his great embarrassment.

Upon William’s return from seeing his mother upstairs, Xander waylaid him in the hallway and dragged him into a dark room he’d not been in before. He shut the door and pushed William up against it, then undid the fastenings of his trousers.

“What are you doing?” William hissed.

“Shh,” Xander said as he shoved William’s pants down. “You don’t want anyone to find us.”

And then he went to his knees and reverently lifted William’s shirt to find the treasure hidden beneath. He knew how Spike liked to be sucked, but he didn’t know if William would like the same things. Figuring it was at least a place to start, Xander took William in his hand, ignoring the hand tugging at his hair, and gently pushed the foreskin down, revealing more of the shiny head.

William was babbling, but Xander was paying him little attention. He leaned in and licked the head.

“Alex—!”

Xander opened his mouth and took William in.

“Uhh! Oh, god, Xander.”

William, new to the sensations swamping him, didn’t last long.

After he’d swallowed, Xander rose to his feet and kissed William. He felt a tentative touch on his hip.

“What about you?”

“Would you touch me?”

“As you did to me last night?”

“Yes. Only if you want to.”

“I do,” William said, and Xander helped him get his trousers open.

William touched him and Xander once again felt like the seventeen year old boy he’d been; horny and desperate and oh, so eager to come, and when he was done, they cleaned William’s hand off together.

The next evening, Xander had ordered up a basket of food and they ate in his room, and when they were done, he stripped William’s clothes off and took his time exploring every inch of his skin. First with his eyes, then with his hands, and finally with his mouth.

William’s ears, his neck, his nipples, his hip, the inside of his thigh.... He’d yet to touch William’s cock the first time William came.

Xander just licked him clean and rolled him over. He started at his neck and slowly worked his way down along his spine, the back of his knees, the dip just above his ass. When Xander parted his cheeks and tongued him, William was already getting hard again.

He worked William loose with his tongue, then with a slippery finger. When he had three fingers in him, rubbing his prostate with each thrust in and out, William was humping the bed and babbling. Xander thought he might be reciting poetry, but couldn’t be sure. He’d have bet money that William wouldn’t remember, either.

When he finally pushed inside him, the tight heat of William’s ass, on top of the heady aroma of sex already filling the room and the noises William was making, was nearly enough to send him over. But he was determined to make this good for William. He didn’t know how much time he had left here, and he wanted William to remember him.

By the time he allowed himself to come, William was as limp as a rag doll beneath him, and Xander was fighting his demon, which was telling him to claimmarkpossess this man. He filled William’s ass, then pulled out and let the last few dribbles of come shoot onto his back and ass, hoping to satisfy the demon without biting William.

Xander rolled to the side and pulled William to him. He ran his fingers through William’s hair, watching the curls bounce back when he let go of them.

“Having fun?”

“Yes. You should sleep.”

“And you?”

“I will. I just want to look at you some more.”

Xander had no intention of falling asleep, since he’d have the whole day to sleep, but William’s warmth seeped into him and he drowsed off. When he woke it was still dark, but he could tell that William was looking at him.

William reached out and touched Xander’s face. “You’re just like she was, aren’t you?”

“I’m nothing like she was,” Xander said.

William nodded, and they both fell back to sleep.

The next day when they were both dressed, William said, “What are you?”

“Vampire,” Xander said. There was no sense in lying to him any longer, and he found he didn’t want to, anyway.

“What did she want with me?”

“She’d have killed you. Turned you into one of them. Us.”

“Whereas you just want to have carnal relations with me?”

Xander laughed. “Well, that’s one of the things I want to do with you.”

Despite his blush, William kept on. “You said she was a monster. What is it that makes you different?”

Xander was quiet for a long time, remembering Spike and the pain he’d felt at his sire’s death, as well as the pain he’d felt just before. He rubbed his chest. “I think I have a soul.”

“Would I...have a soul?”

Xander shook his head. “No.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“That depends,” Xander said, looking William over. “Do you have a bad heart?” He unbuttoned the shirt William had just put back on and slid his hand inside. Xander took off the rest of William’s clothes to see how far down the blush went. Pretty far, as it turned out, Xander thought, as he took William into his mouth.

William pushed at his head, and Xander raised his eyes. “I want to, um, do that to you.”

Xander let go with a ‘pop’. “All right.” He laid down beside William. Next time they’d do it together, but this time he wanted to be able to watch William.

William crawled between his legs, then reached out and touched him. It was a mere graze of his fingertips, but it made him shiver with need.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Xander gritted the word out. “More.”

William tentatively wrapped his fingers around him and Xander dropped his head back and moaned at the heat. When William did nothing else, Xander looked at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just looking. We look different.” He looked up at Xander, so earnest, his glasses sliding down his nose.

“William, for god’s sake, please,” he begged.

“Shall I touch you then?”

“Before I explode from spontaneous combustion, yes.”

And then it was hotwetsuction on his cock and he had to bite his hand to keep from crying out when he came.

When Xander recovered enough to speak, William was holding his hand, this thumb rubbing over the healing bite mark.

“Do you want to bite me?” he asked.

“I don’t want to kill you, or feed from you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But you do want to bite me.”

Xander turned his face away. “Sometimes. You smell so good. Especially when we’re....”

“You want to bite me when we’re....”

“I want to taste you.” He turned back to look into William’s eyes. “But I won’t.”

“Would it hurt?”

“Not if I did it.”

William settled in next to Xander. “Tell me about yourself. Are you really from America?”

“It’s a long story,” Xander said, taking William’s hand.

“We’ve got all afternoon. And all night, if need be.”

So Xander told William about Willow and Jesse, Buffy and Giles, Angel and Angelus, Spike and Drusilla, and about how he thought that he’d been sent back to change the past, and having saved William, didn’t know why he was still there.

“Perhaps we’re now linked somehow. Or perhaps I’m not willing to let you go yet.” William initiated the sweetest kiss, and he moved his hand over Xander, exploring him, finding the spots that made him jump and laugh, or jerk and moan.

“Or perhaps,” Xander said, changing their positions and sliding his body over William’s, “we haven’t finished here yet.”

William gasped as Xander brought their groins together. “Then you’ll never be allowed to go back, will you?”

That evening they returned to William’s home and Xander apologized for keeping William away so long. His mother, pleased that he had a friend, had been worried, but not unduly upset when she realized they were both all right. To make up for it, they spent the evening with her, and after she’d gone to bed, William had led Xander to his own room.

They undressed each other, and William knelt before him. “May I?”

Xander buried his fingers in William’s hair, then removed his glasses. “Please,” he said. He’d known that William was smart, but he now found out that William was also a quick learner. After he’d spent himself in William’s mouth, Xander pulled him to his feet and kissed him, his and William’s taste combining on his tongue.

When he could move without his legs buckling, Xander drew William over to the mirror standing in the corner. William’s lips were swollen and his face and chest flushed, but where Xander stood behind him there was nothing.

Xander wrapped his arms around William, the fingers of one hand teasing his nipples to hard points as the other stroked him until William trembled against him. “Will you fuck me?” he whispered, and William came in his hand, spattering his release on the mirror.

“Perhaps another time,” he said, breathless, and Xander laughed.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Xander helped William to the bed, then set about licking and sucking and nibbling his way down William’s body until his cock showed signs of reawakening. He licked a stripe up William’s cock, then concentrated on his balls. Pushing his legs up, Xander licked behind them, then even further back.

William moaned. “Are you...are you going to...do me?”

Xander lifted his head. “You don’t want to do me?”

“No! Yes! I mean, of course I do, but you...the last time you did that....”

“Oh, no, I was just giving you pleasure so you’d get hard again.” Xander ran his knuckles up and down William’s shaft.

“Oh!”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No! Yes! Oh, bother.”

Xander smiled. “Which is it?”

“May I do that to you?”

Xander immediately crawled up William’s body and kissed him. “Yes,” he said, then threw himself down on the bed. He pulled his knees up and raised his ass.

He felt William stir beside him. “Well, I...don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” he said, not hiding his amusement at all.

Xander lifted his head and growled at him, which oddly enough made William’s cock grow harder. He grinned. “Well, now we know what gets your motor revving.”

“My what?”

“Motor. It’s a, uh, never mind, just....” He waved his hand in the general direction of his ass. “Sometime tonight be good for you?”

William raised an eyebrow at him and climbed behind Xander. “Let me know if I do anything wrong, all right?” he said, and then proved once again that he was a quick learner.

By the time William drew back, Xander was so turned on he’d had to force himself to not come, wanting to feel William’s cock inside him when he did.

William rested his forehead on Xander’s ass. “Xander, I’m so close....”

Xander found the jar of lotion. “Put this on and get inside me.” He wiggled his ass.

“No, no, I remember there’s more I need to do, but I don’t think I can....”

“I’ll be all right. You’ve done enough for me, just please, please, William.” Xander’s voice was tight with the effort of holding back his orgasm.

William moaned as he brought his slicked cock to Xander’s ass, positioned the head against his hole.

“That’s good, now push.”

William pressed inside him, and despite the urge to come, Xander did his best to relax so that William’s entry would be easier on him.

Xander held his breath until William was fully seated inside him, then remembered that he didn’t need to breathe, but let out a long breath anyway.

“Am I hurting you?”

“It feels wonderful. How do you feel?”

“Bloody amazing,” William said, his hands moving over Xander’s ass reverently. “You have a lovely arse.”

“A lovely what?”

“Arse,” William said, but it was lost in his first thrust.

“Oh, yeah, do that again.”

Neither one of them lasted long, and when they were done, they curled up together and slept off their orgasms. They woke up several times during the night and each time they came together was more inventive than the one before.

When Xander was inside him, and had coaxed William to wrap his fingers around his own cock, between gasps, William said, “Bite me.”

Shaken, Xander shook his head.

“Please. I want you to know what I taste like before you have to leave.”

And Xander, because it was what he wanted anyway, didn’t try any harder to resist. He morphed so that William could see what he looked like, giving him the opportunity to change his mind. When he didn’t, Xander lowered his head and sniffed at his neck, smelling the heady scent of human blood spiced with arousal.

He sank his fangs into William’s neck as gently as he could and began to suck. William tasted delicious, and he wondered now how Spike had ever been able to stop himself from draining him.

William moaned and grunted and wiggled beneath him, and then his warm spunk shot between them.

Xander withdrew his fangs and thrust into William’s heat twice before shooting his own load.

When he got back to William’s house that night, the door stood open. He rushed inside calling William’s name, coming up short when he reached the sitting room and found Angelus, his arms around William, his lips coated with blood.

“You’re late,” Angelus said.

“You bastard.”

Angelus laughed bitterly. “Might’ve been better if I had been.”

“What have you done?”

“I just finished what Dru started. I’ve been looking for him for a while, but I just couldn’t believe that this milksop had the stones to kill my Dru.”

“No.” Xander couldn’t believe he’d come back for nothing. William had still been turned, was still part of Angelus’ ‘family’. He’d lost both Spike and William. “I’ll kill you for this.”

“You?” Angelus laughed again, this time with great amusement. “See, now there you’ve got a choice, boy. You can try to kill me, or....” He tossed William’s limp form to Xander. “...you can take care of him.”

Xander caught William just before he hit the floor and gently cradled him in his arms. He realized that William was still alive, though barely. His heartbeat was sluggish, and his eyes were glazed over as if was already seeing a different world. “William.”

“Just a word of advice, one vampire to another, you’re supposed to eat them. If you need some pointers playing with your food, let me know.”

He glared at Angelus’ back as he walked past them without a care, then looked back down at William. “Oh, William, I’m so sorry.”

“Xander. Mother?”

Xander glanced over at the still corpse, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, William.”

“Not...your fault.”

“It is. It is. I should have known he wouldn’t let it go.”

“Don’t...leave...me.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Oh, William, you’re leaving me.”

“Don’t want to...silly.”

“William....”

“Please....”

Xander knew there were tears running down his face, but he didn’t care. He was torn. William didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want to lose him, not again.

He lowered his head and licked a drop of blood off William’s neck. It tasted like fear. He sank his fangs into William and drank. He tasted like relief, and it washed the taste of fear away.

“Please forgive me,” he whispered, and then slashed his wrist and held it to William’s lips.

Xander carried William to his bedroom and sun-proofed the windows. He wondered how long it would take for William to rise. He left William alone just twice. The first time was when dawn approached, to place his mother’s body outside the back door. He waited to see if she’d turn to dust when the sun rose. When her body disintegrated, he turned away and went back upstairs with William.

The second was to stop by the rooming house and get his blood delivery, then by the butcher’s to get more and to change the address for the delivery.

When William woke, he was ravenous. Xander handed him a container of animal blood, which he drank down voraciously.

“Oh, dear lord, that’s vile,” William said after he’d finished.

Xander laughed. “Yes, it’s pretty disgusting.”

“Is that all we have to drink?”

“It’s what I choose to drink,” Xander said.

“What are the other choices?”

“Human,” Xander said. “But if you kill a human, I’ll have to stake you, and I really don’t want to do that.”

“Can’t we just...nibble a little bit?” William asked, and the slight whine in his voice was music to Xander’s ears.

“Perhaps,” he relented. “But that will have to wait until you have more control.” He handed William another container.

“Tell me something,” William said when he was so full his belly was round with it. “Do vampires really have more fun?”

Xander smiled and rubbed his hand over the cool, taut skin of William’s stomach. “We’re going to find out.”

And for a hundred years, they did. Until the night Xander woke up and felt like he was barely hanging on. He’d nearly forgotten about the fact that he’d gone back in time to find William, after the first couple of decades, but now that knowledge came back full force. He was not in the right time.

“Something’s wrong,” he told William.

“Don’t go,” William said.

“What’s the date?”

William told him. It was nearly nine months before his birthday.

“Huh. Maybe I didn’t screw up the future too much. But that means there can’t be two of me.”

“What’ll happen to you? This you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m going back...to Hell. Or maybe I’ll just fade away. Whatever happens to me, this me, go to Sunnydale. Find me.”

“No, Xander, luv, don’t leave me.”

“Promise.”

“I will.”

Xander felt the tear drop fall onto his cheek, and then there was nothing.

When Xander woke up, all he could feel was an excruciating pain in his head. Memories tumbled about, twisted and merged.

He remembered Jesse dying, Willow breaking up with him over the Barbie, crushing on Buffy, Cordelia telling him she didn’t want to go out with him, and Spike....

He remembered his first glimpse of William at the party, staking Drusilla, kissing and touching William, turning William, and spending one hundred years with William....

He remembered sitting on his porch with Jesse one night and watching the new neighbor move in.

“Hi, I’m William.”

“I’m Jesse. This is Xander. He don’t talk much.”

“Yes I do!”

“How come you’re moving in at night?”

He remembered William watching him play outside at night.

“You should be inside now, pet. It’s dangerous after dark.”

“It’s dangerous inside, sometimes.”

He remembered William teaching him and Jesse and Willow how to fight.

“Keep your left arm up, pet. Ah, ah, ah! No hitting below the belt. Unless you’re fightin’ for your lives, that is, but not here.”

He remembered William coming over and getting him when the fights got too loud.

“Making quite a racket, aren’t they? You’ll never get enough sleep at this rate.”

He remembered William helping him with his homework.

“You’re not stupid, pet, I know that, you’ve just got to apply yourself.”

He remembered William explaining to them all that monsters were real, and holding him when they lost Jesse anyway.

“It’s all right, luv, let it out.”

He remembered William meeting Buffy.

“He’s a vampire.”

“We know.”

“He’s sort of our vampire.”

He remembered William saying, “We can’t, pet, not yet,” when he’d tried to kiss him.

When all the memories settled, Xander got out of bed and turned on a light. He looked around his bedroom. At the poster he remembered from the first time, and the book of poetry that he didn’t. At the picture of him, Jesse, Willow and William sitting next to the picture of him, Buffy and Willow. At a new laptop on his desk and his old book bag hanging off the chair.

For a moment he couldn’t move. All he could do was think that William had found him. He checked the date on the computer: May 19, 1998. It had been seventeen years since he’d left William, and just yesterday.

And now he could recognize the expression he’d often seen in William’s eyes, as if he was waiting for something. Before, he’d thought William was waiting for him to grow up, and maybe that was partly it, but he was also waiting, hoping, for Xander to be his Xander.

Xander pulled a pair of sweats on over his boxers and slipped bare feet into a pair of ratty sneakers he’d hidden so his mother couldn’t throw them out. He snuck out of the house, any noise he made covered by his parents’ drunken snores from the living room, and across the lawn to William’s.

“What’re you doing up this late, pet?” William said from the porch where Xander could see the lit end of his cigarette.

“Do you know what today is?”

“If I have to hear, one more time, about the bloody prom, I’m gonna stake myself,” William said as he blew out a lungful of smoke.

“Not the prom.” Xander climbed onto the porch and just looked at the changes wrought by time. This was William. His William. And yet not. And still, he remembered everything. “It’s the anniversary of the date the world went to Hell.”

William froze. “What are you talking about, pet?”

Xander threw himself onto the swing beside William. “Have I thanked you for helping me with English? And math. ‘Cause I gotta tell you, the first time around? I nearly flunked ‘em.”

“Xander?”

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?”

“Xander?” William’s eyes got wide.

“Or the first time you fucked me?”

“Xander?” William’s voice broke.

Xander picked up William’s hand and placed his arm around his shoulder, leaning back, not letting go of William’s hand.

“You found me.”

“Yeah, I found you, pet.” Spike put out the cigarette and pulled Xander in close.

Xander looked around them. “Well, I see you didn’t let the world go to Hell while I was gone. Good job.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Can we have sex now?”

“You’re still only seventeen years old, luv.”

“Technically, I’m...seventeen plus one hundred plus seventeen...a hundred and thirty-four.”

William considered that. “Yeah, okay.”

Xander grinned. “Cool.”

“And then you can tell me if you got your homework done.”

“William!”

The End

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