Rock Bottom
TITLE: Rock Bottom (1/1)
AUTHOR: Laikokae
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: S/X; Angst; Slight AU;
ARCHIVE: Tell me where
SUMMARY: "Welcome to Rock Bottom. The lowest of the Xander lows. We hope you
enjoy your stay."
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Lather, rinse, repeat.
NOTE: This is NOT a romantic story. There's no love here, just desperation
and fucking. It's depressing and angsty. It started off at a low point and
ended up somewhere far lower and darker than I intended. Don't say you
weren't warned.
---
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Fall of Alexander Harris.
So this is Rock Bottom. Take a long look around. Get a feel for the place,
make a reservation, take out a room: You're going to be here for a long
time.
You thought you were really going somewhere, didn't you? For one bright
shining Kodak moment, you really believed, didn't you? It's quite the joke,
you know. We knew all along you were nothing. We knew all along you were
going nowhere.
We're the voices in your head and you can ignore us for awhile, but in the
end we'll come back to haunt you.
We only speak the truth.
This is it, Xander. This is as good as it gets.
---
Xander slumped against the couch, letting his head loll back. He stared at
the ceiling. The sharp white ceiling paint was a shade too bright. It hurt
his eyes, but he couldn't look away. His right hand was loosely wrapped
around the neck of a Jack D.
"Picking up habits, Xan-man" he muttered to himself drunkenly. "Picking up
bad habits."
Anya was gone, of course. That had only ever been a temporary arrangement,
he'd always known that. For awhile there he thought he could outsmart her:
Propose when they were in danger, when the emotions were riding on the very
surface of their skin. Get that ring on her finger and he thought he was
halfway home. She'd have to stay then. The invisible line between him and
the ring would act as a leash. He would keep her. He would never be alone
again.
She left anyway. They all did eventually.
Oh, the Scoobies were still around. Always would be. All dressed up in their
shining, white, unmarred armour. In the end, he'd go back to them. He knew
that. He didn't belong with them, he knew that also, but he'd go back to
them all the same. They were a burning light and he was the pitiful insect,
the moulted-winged moth, that was drawn to them.
But right now, the light was a little too bright for his bloodshot eyes. He
was dirt, right now, and he didn't want to mess up their kingdom.
"All the king's horses," he chuckled, snorting out JD. "All the king's men."
He couldn't be put back together again.
He had to wallow for awhile longer yet. He had to remember who he really
was. This filth, this slime, this slumming - this was him. He could pretend
for awhile, but he had to come back here eventually. Had to spend some
quality time with his face pressed against Rock Bottom.
Pulling the pieces of his life together? Struggling? Surfacing?
All that could wait until tommorrow.
Through his tipsy haze he heard a loud banging on his door. The realisation
that someone was knocking on his door hit him a long moment after he heard
the noise. His muscles almost seemed like liquid as he made his way to the
door. Ooozed his way, really. Like slime.
He pulled the door open and took one long look at the figure standing on the
other side.
"Spike," he noted blandly.
Spike arched an eyebrow at him in amusement. "Well, well," he drawled in his
thick cockney accent. His nostrils flared at the scent of alcohol hanging
onto Xander's breath. "Looks like Scooby morale has hit an all time low.
What's the matter, pet? The Harris Drunken Failure Gene finally kick in?"
"Fuck you, Spike," Xander replied plesantly. He even smiled: A weak,
self-loathing grin.
"Whatever tips your fancy," Spike replied just as pleasantly, with his
trademark smirk. "Gonna get out of my way and let me in or what, whelp?"
Xander's eyes trailed over him interestedly, with the honesty that only
comes with the inebriated. "What do you want?"
"You Scoobies on you knees before me as my bloody minions and the Slayer's
head on a bleedin' sliver platter," he threw back, without a moment's
thought. "That's a pretty broad question, luv, mind narrowing it down?"
"What do you want?" Xander repeated, slowly, as if talking to a child. His
eyes still traced over the vampire. One part of his mind was vaguely aware
how his examining glance could be interpretted, but the rest of his mind was
far too gone to care.
Welcome to Rock Bottom, where openly lusting after evil, male vampires was
legal and encouraged in all states.
Spike's smirk grew. He shook his head, shooting Xander a contemptuous look.
"Christ, you're sorry," he snickered at him. "You'd shag anything for a
little comfort, wouldn't you pet? Anything to make you forget about your
pathetic little existence." He spat out the butt of a cigarette he had been
chewing absently and gave Xander a frank look. "I want a place to stay for
awhile. Crypt bloody well collapsed. Stupid fledgling vampires."
Xander took a single step back. "Come in," he invited the vampire.
"Ta, don't mind if I do," Spike gave him an entirely false grin and took the
single step into the apartment that Xander had given him room for. He was
bare inches away from Xander. He could feel his hot, alcoholic breath
brushing against the side of his temple.
Xander swung the door shut behind him and quickly pushed Spike up against
it, pressing his body to the door with his own. "Yes," he hissed out.
Spike stared at the boy in suprise. "Yes, what?" he demanded. "What the
bloody hell is this?" He instinctively grabbed the boy's biceps to push him
away, but somehow didn't get as far as the pushing.
"Yes, I'd fuck anything for a little comfort," Xander replied with a strange
little smile. "And this?" he repeated Spike's question, arching one eyebrow
in a very close imitation of his own trademark expression. "This is Rock
Bottom, Spike. The lowest of the Xander lows. We hope you enjoy your stay."
Xander's hands ran restlessly all over Spike's body. There was nothing
caressing about their movement, just an urgency, a desperate urgency that
defied description. He traced the line of Spike's body out and then traced
it out again. He moulded his own body to Spike's as his hands worked. It was
as if he wanted to crawl inside Spike's body and his hands were merely
looking for an entrance.
Spike's fists clenched on Xander's biceps in suprise. His pale sky blue eyes
widened. They almost looked afraid, Xander mused, as he met them with his
own dark orbs. "What're you gonna do?" Spike asked, unable to keep the shock
out of his voice.
Xander didn't pause in his ministrations as he answered. "I'm gonna fuck
you," he grated out in a low, husky voice. The need was riding off him
waves. He pressed his hips against Spike's, his hard cock pressing against
him. Spike's own cock hardened in response to the subtle grinding motions
Xander was making, even as his mind reeled.
Spike quickly gathered his senses, tightend his grip on Xander's biceps and
gave him almighty push, sending Xander sprawling backwards into the couch.
"Piss off," he hissed at the boy. He ran his hands restlessly through his
hair. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
Xander was half-leaning on the corner of the couch, his hands on the couch
behind him, balancing him. At Spike's hissed out question, he unexpectedly
began to laugh - an eeriely hollow laugh, ringing with aching irony. The
laughter wavered momentarily on the edge of sobs before fading out
completely.
Xander raised his eyes to meet Spike's and Spike was surprised at what he
saw there. Those dark brown eyes were empty and pleading. Full of
desperation. Xander was drowning and Spike felt for an instant as though he
was drowning in him.
"I wanna fuck you," Xander pleaded. "Let me, Spike," he begged. "Please."
It was surreal. The 'please' is what struck Spike hardest. It was pitiful.
Some people would call Xander as he was now, a shell of a person, a mere
husk. But to Spike, Xander had never been more full. He was brimming with
self-loathing and despair. Aching, aching loneliness and blind need. Need
that was too far gone, need that was unchecked by morals or conscience. It
was pathetic. It was contemptible.
All in all it was...delectable.
"Beg me," Spike demnanded immediately, asserting control. He took a step
closer to Xander. "Get on your knees and beg me," he hissed.
Xander slid easily to his knees. He gazed up at Spike with hungry eyes.
Spike's cock, which had been baredly half-hard before, was now painfully
hard. It had been a long time since he'd had a human submit to him, and
rarely had they done it so prettily.
"I want to fuck you," Xander begged, his voice thick and husky, completely
shameless, only needy. "Let me, please Spike, let me fuck you."
Spike hissed out an unecessary breath from between clenched teeth. With
lust-clumsy hands, he undid the fastenings on his jeans, freeing his cock.
He twined his hands in Xander's soft, dark hair.
"Suck me," he ordered the boy at his feet. "Suck my cock."
"Yessss," Xander hissed out, almost happily, before taking Spike's cock
between his lips and swallowing him down to the root. Spike's hands clenched
spasmodically in Xander's hair and his hips arched towards the warm, sucking
wetness.
Spike spared no plesantries on the boy, his hips pistoned, he fucked
Xander's mouth as hard as the chip would allow him to. Xander made no noise
of complaint. He swallowed as much of Spike's cock as he could, making only
the occassional grunt, which only made Spike fuck his mouth harder.
"Fuck yeah, lad, that's it," Spike moaned as he neared his completion. "Take
it, fuck yeah, take it all."
It was Xander moaning his own pleasure that finished Spike off. The fact
that the boy was actually enjoying this. The fact that the boy was getting
hot and bothered about Spike treating him like dirt and fucking his mouth,
sent Spike reeling. He came and came into Xander's mouth and the boy
swallowed it all.
Xander stared up at him, his dark hair disshelveled, his lips wide and puffy
and flushed red. He looked wanton and desireable. He looked fucking
beautiful. He looked perfect.
Spike only had a moment to contemplate him, however, before his legs were
roughly pulled out from under him, and he fell, sprawled on the carpted
floor.
An instant later, Xander had both his arms pinned on the floor above his
head and was straddling his hips. Spike had only a moment to look up into
lust filled eyes, before Xander roughly claimed his mouth.
This kiss was hard and blatantly forceful. His tongue didn't wait for an
invitation, it pushed it's way between his lips and took possession of his
mouth. It felt like Xander was trying to pour all his being into Spike,
while simultaneously sucking all the life out of him. Spike's cock began to
harden again immediately.
Finally, Xander pulled away and glared at him. "Gonna fuck you, Spike," he
muttered against his mouth. "Gonna fuck you."
Spike was limp against him. Xander released the vampire's wrists from his
grasp, but Spike made no move to escape. He laid completely still, while
Xander manouvered his upper body to get his t-shirt off.
As soon as the inhibiting material was gone, Xander scraped his nails done
Spike's chest, tugging particularly on his nipples, until there were red
welts down his chest and his nipples were tight nubs.
His hands worked quickly, pulling Spike's already unfastened jeans off his
legs along with his boots. He didn't even bother to undress himself, he just
unfastened his cargo pants and freed his rock hard cock. He uncermoniously
yanked Spike's legs apart and settled his hips between them.
Only then did Spike begin to move again. He writhed against the body holding
him down, wrapping his legs around Xander's torso. He reached up to touch
him with his hands, to cling to him with his arms, but Xander had his wrists
pinned to the floor again in an instant, his eyes panicked.
"Don't stop me," he ordered Spike hoarsely. "Gonna fuck you, gonna fuck you
hard," he muttered. "Don't stop me," the last was almost a plea.
The desperation was delicious. It was insanely arousing. Spike growled and
arched up into Xander's touch. He raised his hips, revealing his puckered
entrance. "Do it," he hissed, his own need rising to the surface. "Fuck
me..." he trailed off.
Only when Xander spit-covered fingers had forced their way into his
entrance. Only when he had crooked them just so, hitting that spot and
causing Spike to shudder violently, moaning, did Spike speak again.
"Hard," he whispered huskily. "Fuck me hard."
Trembling convulsively with his need, Xander coated his cock in
semen-thickend spit and positioned himself at Spike's entrance.
"Oh gods," he hissed as he began to inch his way in.
Spike writhed up against him desperately. "Do it," he hissed. "Do it!"
Dark eyes met pale ones and with one smooth move, Xander pushed himself the
whole way in. Spike's back arched impossibly far and he let out an unearthy
howl. Xander screamed "Fuck!" as he felt Spike's muscles contract around
him.
For one instant, it felt as though the world stopped spinning, everything
ended, because nothing could survive anything this good. It was darkness and
desperation, need and want and hunger all wrapped up in one.
And then Xander began to move.
At first his movements were rough and shaky, Xander was still trembling, but
the need soon overcame the means, and Xander's hips were moving fluidly,
rough, abrupt, hard, almost as if they were moving to the rhythm of 'fuck
me's.
Spike arched up in the hard thrusts. He fucked back against Xander's cock as
hard as Xander was fucking into him. He growled and moaned and moaned in
pleasure.
His voice became a litany. "Fuck me, fuck, god, Xander, yes!" he moaned.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Xander was much less coherent. He grunted and moaned, each moan winding
higher and more desperate than the last. When his noises could be discerned
into words, all that could be made out was "Spike!" and "Fuck, please."
As he neared his climax, he chanted "Please, please, please," as if he was
begging Spike to let him come.
The stream of begging was what finally set Spike off. His back arched and
his muscles tightend and he came harder than he had in his life, screaming
out Xander's name.
Xander came a moment later, with a long drawn-out agonised moan, thrusting
into Spike so hard that it felt like his organs had been rearranged.
They both stiffened and the strange tableau lasted a long moment, before
they both weakly collapsed, muscles like jelly.
It was a long while before either of them could move, but when they could,
Xander rolled away from Spike.
He lay on his back, on the carpet, hugging his chest tightly, his head
arched backwards, staring at the white ceiling. The ceiling was a much too
sharp shade of white. It must've hurt Xander's eyes.
There were tears smarting in them.
---
Well, well, well.
We're quite impressed, of course. Welcome to Below Rock Bottom. Looks like
you're here for a long stay. You deserve a big congratulations, Xander.
You've hit an all time low.
Nothing, Xander, and nowhere. But you've made such a pretty mess of it.
We're quite proud of you. We knew all along you were capable of ruin, but we
hadn't hoped for something as disgusting as this. We only wish someone cared
enough to come and marvel at your pitifulness. But, of course, no one does.
We're the voices in your head and you can ignore us for awhile, but in the
end we'll come back to haunt you.
We only speak the truth.
You're pathetic, Xander.
This is it. This is all you're ever going to get.
---
Spike slowly came back to his senses. He rolled on his side, unable to keep
his eyes away from Xander. The boy was hugging himself and staring at the
ceiling. The expression on his face was so lost and there was wetness on his
cheeks.
Spike felt a kick of something in his stomach. Something like guilt.
He couldn't move. He couldn't take his eyes from Xander. From the ruin he'd
helped to create.
Spike stayed very still. He couldn't budge. He couldn't leave.
So he stayed.
He watched over Xander.
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