Part 16
All of those nights, coming in to watch his boy sleep in the moonlight;
every time he had stood outside the shower, enraptured by the foam of
Xander's shampoo as it slithered over the his wet, tanned flesh; evenings
lit only by the flickering television, when Xander woke from a doze, his
head pillowed in Spike's lap to ask, " How long have you been staring?";
always there had been a sense of impermanence. The fear that the moment was
fleeting and the boy would be taken from him had always pressed at Spike's
senses. It was apparent to him now that it had influenced his actions. Had
that been
what made letting Xander know just how important he was so difficult? Had
that been what prevented him from showing his sweet Pet how much he needed
him, loved him? No more. Now they were bonded - no one could take what was
his without dusting him. Spike was going to show Xander over and over how
much he was desired.
Spike knelt beside his gloriously naked mate. He had laid Xander out on the
rumpled bed as if he were a full course banquet - now where to start? First,
touch - though satisfying on a primal level, their mating had been driven by
need and passion, causing it to be over far too quickly - then taste; now
that Spike had claimed his mate he was eager to immerse himself in the scent
and flavor of every aspect of his lover. Xander's blood and sweat, saliva
and semen must all be retasted so that Spike could reacquaint himself with
their essence now that his own would be forever mixed with them. He didn't
know just why it was that the blending of blood they partook in almost daily
would never alter Xander's scent but the blood he had licked into the
claiming mark would change it immediately, but it was obvious that it did.
Whatever that change had been had calmed his demon and was responsible for
the euphoric state he seemed to be in as he watched as Xander smiled up from
his languid sprawl.
Spike's fingers moved of their own accord, brushing lightly across the warm
lips of his lover and trailing down Xander's neck, carefully skirting the
mark. He wanted to touch all of him, and moved from his nipples to follow
the enticing path of dark hair down from Xander's navel to caress his sated
cock and stroke his inner thighs. He was transfixed, both by the perfection
of his
mate's body and by his own bite, vivid on the corded muscle that stretched
down to Xander's collarbone. Spike had no idea how long he had been
exploring
every inch of Xander's body when he felt his boy tug at the hem of his tee
shirt. He hadn't meant to tease - that was just an added bonus - and was
enchanted by the unbridled lust in Xander's eyes when the boy managed to
whisper, "Please."
*Anything, Pet, anything.* Xander rarely asked for anything - well, anything
Spike hadn't intended to do anyway - this being a case in point. Spike was
giddy that he could so readily give him his wish. Being an evil undead
bastard
though, he couldn't resist teasing a bit more and did a slow strip out of
his shirt and jeans. When Xander, still spent and boneless from their bout
in the kitchen, reached for him, Spike started to laugh. It was all too
wonderful. This beauty was his. He hadn't stolen or coerced or forced Xander
into his bed, Xander had chosen it. Eyes wide open, damn the consequences,
Xander had chosen him. The most loyal, loving, fierce, passionate man Spike
had ever
met had chosen to bind his life to Spike's. Knowing what he was, having seen
Spike at his lowest points, this man loved him.
Spike loomed over Xander and blanketed him with his body. He laved the
now-red mark with his tongue. There was no taste of blood left, the bite had
healed. There was just the musky flavor of Xander, even now accented with a
dash of Spike's own scent. Spike took shameless advantage of Xander's
distraction to tickle all of his most sensitive spots. Soon his boy was
gasping for air and begging to be fucked.
Eager to oblige, Spike lifted both long, limber legs up over each of his
shoulders and slid into the warm, well-oiled body of his mate. Spike
entrance was greeted by an unintelligible noise from Xander before his boy
began to babble encouragement and shout out demands. If laughter and purring
weren't embarrassing enough for the Big Bad, before he knew what he was
doing he was quoting Shakespeare to his boy. "O, how thy worth with manners
may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own
praise to mine own self bring? And what is't but mine own, when I praise
thee?"
"Idiot," was Spike's reflexive response when, after Xander slid his legs
down and around Spike's waist, wrapping him in the warm embrace of his arms
and
legs he had asked if the poetry was something Spike had written. So all his
resolve to stop feeding the boy's self doubts was just so much drivel. He
could admit to himself what a fine man Xander was but again and again he
failed to tell - to show Xander his true feelings. Resolved to take back, or
at least amend his comment, Spike lifted his face from the warm bend of
Xander's neck. Xander continued to lazily card Spike's hair and with a
heavy-lidded, besotted gaze, smiled. In that moment the poet realized
that just as ‘psychopath' had become a term of endearment to him, Xander now
heard ‘idiot' - at least when it came from Spike - tinted with all the
tenderness that the vampire had such trouble expressing.
Later, Spike rested his head upon his lover's stomach. Xander's fingers
brushed slowly through the vampire's hair. The boy's pulse had finally
returned to normal. As they lay sprawled together across the bed, Spike's
mate's breath assumed the slow even rhythm of sleep. The boy dozed on and
off. When he woke he would whisper soft endearments, in between languid
caresses, or soft comments about what the vampire had just said.
"Pretty words," Xander mumbled. "Give me pretty words." He was completely
unaware of the sated, sensuous picture he posed lying naked, spread across
their bed with Spike's mark his only adornment.
Spike rolled over and propped himself on his elbows, smiling to himself as
he drank in the sight of his sleepy, debauched boy. "Joy divided life, like
blood staining anointing love wetter than death,[1]" he said, his voice
resonating and the words rolling out in a suggestive purr.
Xander showed extreme initiative in lifting his head a couple inches to look
Spike in the eyes. "Psychopath," he said with a tender smile and he added,
"You're such a romantic," before dropping his head back to the pillow.
Xander pulled him back into place, cushioning Spike's head on his warm
stomach. "Love you...glad you did it...I think the others will understand."
"Xan? You know I'll never leave you, right?" Spike felt his lover's
calloused
hand cup his cheek and caress the side of his face. He had been unaware he
had shut his eyes until he opened them to see those deep brown ones
regarding him with calm acceptance. Xander had raised himself up onto one
elbow and was watching him. The boy nodded but made no comment. "Don't know
what to tell you. Never took a mate. Never knew anyone who did, let alone a
human."
"What about Dru?" Xander was always careful to avoid her name. It pleased
Spike that Xander could ask, without reservation or hesitancy, about the
woman who had been his constant companion for so long.
"She turned me, she wasn't my mate. Closest to that would have been Buffy.
What a fucking disaster that would have been." Answering Xander's look of
confusion, Spike hastily added, "I loved her, respected her, but what made
her a Slayer and what makes me a vampire would have always been at war. It
would have torn us apart from the inside. I do know that much."
"And us?" Xander's hand, which had been softly stroking the line of Spike's
jaw, moved back to comb though his bleached gel-less hair.
"We're good for each other, yeah?" At Xander's enthusiastic nod, Spike
leaned up and kissed his lips, because he looked like he wanted kissed -
needed kissed. "Don't know about the rest. But I will dust myself before I
hurt you."
Strong fingers pulled his hair, hard. "Don't talk like that. I'm serious. We
will hurt each other. I'm young - not naive. When you give someone the power
to make you feel as good as you make me feel, well, they get equal power to
hurt you. The only thing that will destroy me is if you take yourself
permanently out of the picture." Xander broke the intense gaze he had
leveled on Spike and offered a goofy grin before adding, "California
community property rights guarantee I get one tirade everytime you fuck up.
If you walk into the sun I'll be really pissed." A confused look crossed the
boy's face as if he were listening to an instant replay of what the just
said and he added, "I mean pissed in the American sense, not the English
'get drunk and sing turn of the century, smutty, pub songs' sense."
Spike snickered and kissed the boy again - hard. Xander lay back and spread
out while Spike nibbled his way down and across Xander's muscular neck and
shoulders to lave the mark with his tongue. He feathered kisses and bites
down the boy's chest, dipped into the concavity of his stomach and stuck his
tongue in Xander's deep navel. Nuzzling lower he drank in the subtle change
in scent that his claiming had made in his mate.
Though Xander's spirit was willing his flesh remained flaccid. It had been
an eventful day. When Red had called before, she had confided in Spike that
she too thought Xander need some down time. Spike returned to his favorite
spot and pillowed his head on Xander's stomach. He lazily stroked Xander's
arm and watched his lashes flutter closed. If the boy said the others would
accept their bond, then they would. Spike would let Xander handle it. His
mate managed the humans well and was better at keeping priorities in
perspective. Spike knew his own attention wandered if there was no immediate
threat, but Xander was well suited for anticipating preparing for the worst.
Later when the doorbell rang. Spike was treated to the slapstick sight of
his mate frantically trying to forestall the questions which would be bound
to arise as a result of their earlier activity. Spike was impressed by the
speed of Xander's reactions as he careered about the apartment, using his
multitasking mind to dress while cleaning and ventilating the kitchen on his
way toward the door. Spike met him at the door with a shirt, which would
hide
his mark until the boy could warn the others to not to try and stake him.
Spike suppressed a growl when Xander told him it was Finn and his commando
boy. Rather than break his word within hours of giving it Spike retired to
the bedroom to smoke and pace, and keep an ear open. He didn't think either
of them would or could hurt his mate and the simple act of claiming had
given him perspective in the everyone-wants-Xander issue - not much, he
admitted, but some. Ever since they had started sharing blood, Spike had
wondered if it was his imagination or if Xander's reflexes were becoming
even quicker than Hellmouth-honed. He hadn't noticed any increase in
strength, but it was hard to tell - humans had always seemed so fragile. He
honestly didn't know if there would be any obvious physical changes in the
boy. He hadn't lied, he was operating blind. He had no idea how this would
affect either of them.
Time crawled by as Spike eavesdropped on Xander attempting to make awkward
amends with the Slayer's ex. Spike was willing to follow Xander's lead, but
hoped it wouldn't mean Finn would be hanging around. They had just gotten
rid of Angel and the last thing Spike wanted was another one of Buffy's
castoffs looming about and lusting after his mate. Thankfully the doorbell
rang, which meant that the girls would be here to run interference and
hopefully keep the attention of the two commandos off Xander.
Spike reveled in the stunned look on captain cardboard's face when he
emerged from the bedroom and strolled to the door. But the vampire's
attention was quickly diverted by Dawn's need to reassure herself that both
he and Xander had survived the assault on the Hellmouth intact. He was
instantly aware of her rising panic at the sight of the commandos. *Another
reason to get rid of the tossers.* Willow had told him earlier that Dawn
had been deeply disturbed when she heard that it was the Initiative that
they were facing. The nibblet's fears centered around her belief that the
military would somehow recapture Spike and do experiments on him.
Her protectiveness would have been laughable if it were not so heartfelt.
Here he was, the Big Bad - a chip-free Master vampire - and she was hardly
more than a mouthful, yet she was one more person who would mourn his
passing and truly loved him. They too were blood-bonded in a way, by the
Slayer's blood. A Slayer he hadn't slain, but who had treated him like a man
- an untrustworthy man, but a man. Dawn was his, but not his alone. His mate
claimed her as kin and so did the witches and the Watcher. Because he had
failed to protect her that night on the tower, she had lost her sister, and
Spike was determined that she wouldn't lose anyone else. She teetered now
between trying to seem as if everything were fine, like when she tried to
wrangle more leeway from her overprotective ‘family' and spend time with her
friends, and times like this, when she clung to Spike, throwing herself into
his arms as if she were half her age.
Dawn alone would have bound Spike to the Slayer's loved ones even had they
not accepted or acknowledged that bond. But this, standing here in his own
living room - his and Xander‘s - staring at the shocked commandoes - this
was
rich. The girls stood by him and leveled all the power of their scornful
gazes on the broken boy that had left their Buffy. Xander alone prevented
Red from venting her not inconsiderable wrath on Finn. Surprisingly it was
sweet, forgiving Willow who would not let go of the grudge she held against
Finn for running out on Buffy when she needed him the most. Spike was here,
this was his place, and Riley Finn was the outsider. Even though Xander
extended an invitation for the commandos to stay it was clear that here was
where Spike belonged and not Finn. As Xander was showing Finn and his silent
shadow to the door the Watcher arrived. Giles' arrival sent the commandos
scurrying and Spike regretted not having a chance to see Ripper tear the boy
a new one.
Soon Dawn was pumping Spike for information about the battle and Ethan
Rayne, while Xander and the witches bustled about setting the table and
wondering out loud if this were a late lunch or early dinner. The scene was
oddly domestic. The most disturbing part to Spike was how easily he fit into
this warm, extended family. He had never had so much, and he had never had
so much to lose. Chipless and mated; obviously Red and Rupes hadn't been
comparing notes or this evening wouldn't have this relaxed camaraderie.
1 Douglas E. Winter "Joy Divided"
Part 17
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