Part 7
How the hell did that happen? Xander couldn’t tell if it was minuets or
hours later that he found himself blinking into the darkness. He wasn’t sure
if he was seeing or imagining vague shapes. It was his room. Since his
brain knew what was there, maybe it was supplying impressions of what he
thought he should see. What was real? Did perception make reality? ‘Hey,
no, stop that, see this if why I don’t think,’ his internal babble shouted
at him. ‘Here, there be dragons.’ He suppressed a sigh and admitted to
himself, that questioning reality was probably a bad idea for someone who
had live though the lowering of the walls between the worlds. ‘Hey, wait,
there had been a dragon, hadn’t there?’
The day Buffy died. The day Anya left. The day Dawn became a ghost of her
former self. The day Giles started to doubt himself. The day Spike had
transformed into the adult of there little group. Willow was still Willow,
but between trying to take care of all of them and trying to hold herself
together even she was starting to look worn around the edges. If she hadn’t
had Tara with her constantly, Xander thought, she might just shatter into a
million pieces. She was his best friend, his soul-sib, he would have cut
off a limb for her, but that wouldn’t help and he didn’t know what would. He
wanted to ease her stress, her fear, whatever it was that seemed to vibrate
through her spirit and made her appear even tinier and more fragile than he
had always seen her. But, he didn’t know how. Didn’t know what to say.
Didn’t know if anything he did would help, or it would be that one last
thing that would fracture her, finally breaking the strongest one of them.
About six feet ahead of him, the flat black shape was a window. He lay on
his side, looking with all his might, trying to make out the outline of the
window. It should be easy being that there was no curtains or blinds. He’d
left it that way so the sun would save him from sleeping in and losing his
job. No curtains, Xander thought. Or blinds. Sun. That could be a problem
with the undead guy whose arm was wrapped around his waist. The undead guy
pressed so tightly against Xander’s back that he would have been breathing
down his neck, if undead guys breathed. ‘Hummm,’ he thought ‘morning after
conversation, verse removing recent lover from the bed with a dust buster,
tough call.’ Xander did not have a dust buster, so he stealthily slipped
out of the bed.
He had some supplies left, from when he had built the training room at the
shop, in the storage closet near the porch/balcony. He turned a light on
in the living room and sorted out what he would need. ‘Hammer and nails are
out if I don’t want shot by the neighbors,’ he mused. He settled on a heavy
drop cloth and some wood clamps, it was quick and quiet and would do until
he could rig something more permanent. ‘Hey? What? More permanent? See,
thinking bad. Bad Xander.’
He left the bedroom door open enough to shed light on the window but not on
the bed, while he worked. He made sure that the cloth wasn’t heavy enough to
pull down the clamps or what they were clamp to, and soon had it secured.
He spent more time fussing with the edges to make sure no light would sneak
in than it had taken to get, and hang the tarp. Room temperature hands,
gently slid from his waist, to his abdomen, stroked down and back out to his
hips. His hips were pulled back until his ass came into firm contact with
his naked lover. “You’ve got a gallant streak in you, pet.” Spike purred in
the low growly voice that bent Xander’s mind into abstract shapes. “You
really are a white knight, aren’t you?”
Xander could hear the smirk in that voice, but it was gentle teasing, from
the gentle man whose cock was twitching against his bare ass. He turned
slowly, luxuriating in the feel of Spike’s hands never leaving his body as
they slid across said ass, and stomach, to end up on the opposite sides they
had held before. He tilted his head until their foreheads touch, and
thought again how perfectly Spike’s height complimented his own.
“Well,’ he
said suppressing a smirk of his own, “I don’t have the proper cleaning
supplies for combustible lovers.” Xander barely moved his parted lips to
just barely brush them across Spike’s lips. Once, twice, in between the
brief contacts, his own warm breath ghosted against Spike’s mouth, and the
patented Spike Smirk, was replaced but a genuine smile. Xander kept teasing
and soon felt a hint of wetness as Spike upped the ante and brought his
tongue into play.
Spikes hands slid back and down, until they firmly grasp both cheeks of
Xander’s ass. Xander felt a wide grin spread across his face as he
desperately tried to continue the kiss/sparring, maneuver his lover back to
bed, and not break out laughing. It was almost impossible to keep up the
persistent worrying. He wasn’t alone; he had to trust the others not to
break the way they trusted him.
‘And hey?’ “White knight?” He had never told anyone what Angelus had said
outside Buffy’s hospital room, just that he had come to kill her, and left
after the making the appropriate threats.
“Think I didn’t hear about that, you really pissed him off, pet” Xander
leaned over and claimed Spike’s mouth.
‘This is so not a person we should be talking about during sex. We are
going to have sex, aren’t we?’ Just to confirm it, Xander trailed kisses
across Spike’s jaw and down his neck, when he met the bunch of muscle above
his collarbone he gave it a soft nip. Completely independent of his brain,
which wanted nothing to do with thoughts of Angel while feeling up Spike in
bed, his mouth said, “Oh, yeah. Nothing like threatening to die loudly and
messily to really get under Angel’s skin.” Since Spike had made such a nice
noise the first time, Xander nipped him again.
There was a blur of movement and Xander found himself underneath Spike
staring at his game face. His gold eyes reflected the limited light from
the living room. “Now pet, it’s not nice to bite when I can’t bite back.”
For a moment, Xander just lay stunned, looking up into the face of a demon.
He knew Spike was soulless. He had always prided himself on being aware of
his place on the food chain. He had never trusted Angel. He knew chipped
or unchipped Spike was dangerous killer. But, Spike was his friend, he was
sure of that. Spike was pack. He trusted him. Slowly he lifted his hand to
stroke the ridges of Spike’s face. Xander slid his hand to the back of
Spike’s neck and gently pulled him down. He kissed him softly and then
slipped his tongue into slide against his fangs. In a voice so quiet, it
belayed the ridges and fangs Spike said, “You really have no idea how
special you are, do you luv.”
Xander didn’t have an answer to that so he just pressed their cocks together
and began to thrust against his lover. After they came, Spike again cleaned
them up and pulled Xander against him. This times Xander faced him and
wrapped Spike in his arms as well.
Part 8
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