~ Spike ~

 

Treckle's scream inside of my head wakes me instantly. Can't believe I fell asleep, wasn't that strenuous after all, just felt ... weirdly safe afterwards.

 

It's about 3 a.m. Time most of the customers go home and some of the nastier things stick their horned hairy heads out and want to have some fun. I'm up and in my clothes before Xander even stirs. Boy turns on his side, shivers. Back in a bit, promise.

 

I comb my fingers through my hair twice, duster, fag and seconds later I'm at the threshold to the club, lighting the fag and taking a deep drag whilst I try to figure out what's going on.

 

Why the bloody hell is Treckle dancing like that with my sire?

 

 

~ Xander ~

 

The hollow clicking sound of the door closing rips me out of the satisfied darkness in which I was drifting. It's nearly pitch black around me, still I can see pretty well. The apartment is empty, no sound other but my own breathing and heartbeat. I feel cold somehow. Alone.

 

I sit up, grimacing about the dried cum on my belly, the soreness of my ass. What a night. And still I'm hungry. Blood hungry. Or is that thirsty, blood thirsty, yep.

 

Why did Spike leave? He's regretting it already? Nah, didn't feel like that. After all it was 'just' sex. Men don't regret having sex. I don't even think Spike gets the concept of regret at all. Vampire, soulless, gorgeous, damn good kisser, lover. I shiver. Cold, feel so cold. Need clothes.

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

Didn't know the poof could dance like that. Angelus, yes, that bastard moved gracefully, light footed, elegantly with the nearly obscene ‘wanna fuck you’ attitude, but Angel? The soul, the guilt and the weight of the bloody world is dragging him down so hard, you'd think he's covered in cement.

 

I drag at my fag again, take in the smoke, letting it course through my system, enjoying the sensation of being warmed from the inside even if only for a few seconds. I watch the two move to the music. I know that he knows I am here even though he doesn't look up, doesn't give away, he’s concentrating completely on his dancing partner.

 

Finally he turns Treckle around, grabs the half-demon‘s lean hips, long fingers sprawled on black leathers, nearly reaching the heavy bulge in the front. Angel pulls T back abruptly while he thrusts forward, crotch meeting ass, hard.

 

Just for a second my eye lids flutter, remembering in detail how that almost brutal thrust feels, with clothes, without them. T throws his head back, the long dark blue hair flowing like a waterfall at night and I concentrate so I can hear T groan, entirely lost in sensations.

 

At that moment, my sire looks up, grins at me, animalistic lust blazing golden through whiskey eyes and I have to suppress the urge to kneel down and beg. You'd think that one hundred years would be enough to delete eighteen years of intense training - but well, some things just stick with you for eternity.

 

I take another long, deep drag from my fag while I watch my sire's strong fingers slide over T's body, thighs to chest, tugging at taut nipples and back down, touching the hardness there but not...

 

Torturing with tenderness, Angelus' real finesse, undiscovered by the bloody Watchers Council, or maybe those wankers just a bunch of homophobes, too inhibited to write down the truth. Pffft - I snort. The Watcher's porn diaries. The world would be better for it, I tell you.

 

 

~ Xander ~

 

 

Whoa, my ass feels weird. Not bad, nor not good, but weird. Spike's cock was inside my ass. God, I'm gay. I am sooo gay. I got fucked. By a guy. No, by a vampire. I am not only gay, I'm a freak. And I'm thirsty. I make my way over to the fridge, open it and drink from the orange juice, the milk, try the coke and even eat a couple of twinkies, but still... I need Spike. Spike's blood. Where the hell is he? Need to find him.

 

I go over to my room and search for suitable clothes. The jeans and shirt I wore before are too rumpled, even for the low lights down in the club. Hm. My gaze falls on the bag Spike threw at me yesterday. Or the day before yesterday. God – time's completely going by me unnoticed. Can't remember ever being so free, so light-hearted before. I take a deep breath and pull the black leather pants out of the bag. The material feels cool but soft and I realize I'm actually looking forward to feeling it against my skin.

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

When the song finally ends, even I can smell T's precum. Delicious.

Angel gives Treck a shove in the direction of the bar and he stumbles off with weak knees. I drop the fag, crush it out with the heel of my boot and, without looking up, I know my sire is watching me intently. I sigh shakily and nod to myself before I straighten my shoulders and go over to my creator. Why the hell did he have to come here? I told him everything was fine, is fine, couldn't be better. Xander's upstairs, truly fucked and waiting for me. Why did he come? grrrr

 

When I reach him I look up, meet his intensely speculating eyes and, before I have a chance to say anything, – because I had no intention of dancing with him – he grabs me and pulls me flush against him. He buries his head in the crook of my neck, inhales deeply, scents me and then draws back, seemingly satisfied. I feel tension leaving my body, I feel relieved he didn't try anything weird like claiming me right in front of everybody and then I catch a glimpse of his face. His true face, eyes blazing furiously and his lips half open, showing off razor sharp tips of white fangs. Fuck. What the hell is wrong now?

 

 

~ Xander ~

 

Leather is good. Leather is cool. I stretch and turn in front of the bathroom mirror trying to get a good look of how the trousers fit. Just from the feeling of them surrounding my legs and hips, soft but strong, not restraining but holding tight, I'd say they're like made for me. I feel Spike-ish. Oh god. I laugh out loud.

 

Now I still need something for the upper half of my body and there was nothing else in the bag anymore. Hm. I go over to Spike's room, I hope he won't mind me borrowing something. Nah. I go through the impressive collection of three red, silk button-up's and five black t-shirts before I grab one of the latter. Just hope it won't be belly free when I finally get into it. I laugh again. I feel so good – if you ignore the nagging hunger in the midst of my chest, calling out for Spike's blood.

 

I pull the t-shirt over my head and down my body. Damn, that's tight, sits like a second skin. I go back in the bathroom, looking at my chest and the tight little nipples significantly prominent under the black cotton. I watch my arms and flex my biceps experimentally, promptly ripping open the right arm of the shirt. Oops. But it looks way better without the arm. Hm. I grin to myself, and rip off all of the right side, then the left side too. Who'd have thought?

 

I wash my face, comb my hair with wet fingers so it looks gelled but isn't. Damn, Xannyboy, you look great. Like a callboy. Who am I kidding. I fall back on the Spike-must-have-fucked-my-brains-out-I-am-not-responsible-for-anything-anymore-thought and, without another look in the mirror, I go to get my shoes and leave the apartment to search for my little vamp-lover. As I said, Spike has fucked my brains out. I am not responsible for anything anymore. I giggle and go down the steps, enjoying the tight leather rubbing against my cock and ass, the tight cotton straining against my hardened nipples.

I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts...

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

"His spunk is all over you." My sire growls and crazy possessiveness fills his eyes, making my skin crawl – in a good way. That's bad. That's really bad.

 

"We had a little..."

 

"I thought I saved you from being a fuck toy for humans that night." He spits, and I flinch back, images of that night flashing in my head. Soldiers around me, laughing, mocking, degrading and the thick scent of violent lust. Hands, too many to fight off. Feet, kicking too hard, too often to avoid. The pain of the chip going off and off and off...

 

"You did..." Both our heads whip around to the entrance of the club where, suddenly, Xander stands, confidence and sex practically pouring off him, arrogance and invincibility displayed so blatantly... breathtaking, gorgeous, and just the wrong attitude at the wrong time in the wrong place.

 

Angel growls and pushes me away. He turns and stalks over to Xander.

Oh bloody fucking hell.

~ Xander ~

 

I scan the club for my lover. Whoa – my lover. Spike. Spike, my lover. Here, this is my lover Spike. I grin to myself. Love is in the air... Or maybe not…

 

Angel.

 

What the hell is Angel doing here? And why is he stomping toward me like a pissed off bull... terrier? I start laughing despite the situation of a pissed off Master Vampire, who happens to be big daddy to my lover vampire, coming towards me to defend the honour of his - oh oh. Urgh.

 

I am up in the air, gasping for breath and clawing at the strong hand that's wraped around my throat. Fuck - hey, I didn't do anything, did I? Shove off with the yellow eyes and grrrr-face, Deadboy.

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

Just bloody great. What are we, kindergarten-kids?

 

I run to catch up with Angel but reach him only after he has lifted Xander off the ground, shaking him like a rag doll, growling: "You hurt my boy!"

 

Xander, ballsy as always, just stares at Angel, the left-over of a smile on his face or maybe the beginning of one, which pisses Angel off even more. So he does smell faintly of fear, but not enough to sooth Big-dark-and-broody here.

 

"Let him down, Angel. He didn't hurt me." I say, in the most commanding voice I possess. Bad idea. Angel's head snaps around to me and he spits at me: "Since when do you give me commands, childe?" while Xander whimpers under the increased pressure of my sire's grip. Fuck.

 

 

~ Xander ~

 

Oooh, love that voice, love when he gets all manly and possessive. I try to grin at him but end up grimacing. Spike grins back though and then grabs onto Angel's arm that still holds me up. He shakes the arm, trying to loosen up Angel's grip on me but only succeeds in shaking me too, like a rag doll. Change of tactics, please. Needing air here. And soon.

 

"Spike is mine. You will not touch him again. Do you understand?" Angel growls at me, eyes flashing and nothing but rage in his demonic face. I wouldn't agree, nor nod my head, even if I could. Spike is his own man..pire. Doesn't need daddy anymore.

 

Anger starts to slowly dim the light-hearted happiness I just felt and I bare my teeth at Neanderthal-vamp in an aggressive fashion. Not gonna give Spike up this easily and I can't remember ever feeling this good in my life and Broody here has just destroyed it. I grab the arm holding me with both my hands and use it to pull me up, then put my legs around Deadboy's waist, crossing my ankles I squeeze his middle tight and now have a relatively good position on his hips to concentrate on getting his hand off my throat. I fucking hate to be strangled.

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

I admit I adore Xander's survivor mentality. Good move he did there but I hate to see him this close to Angel. My sire's arm has come around Xander's waist, a reaction on instinct but I hate to see him holding my boy like this. I feel the possessive rage of the demon surge to the surface and my face changes, seconds later I roar and rush forward and sink my fangs hard into the bulging cords of my sire's forearm. This move should at least direct the attention completely toward me. Unauthorized biting of an elder is bloody asking for your own dusting. Fuck it. Angel hasn't played along vampire lore in a long time.

 

 

~ Xander ~

 

Out of the corner of my eye I see Spike change and growl, then surge forward and bury his fangs in Angel's arm. I look back into Broody's face and the blatant disbelief and surprise in his features would have made me chuckle if I didn’t have this feeling that something very important was happening right here. I know biting is a delicate matter for vampires, have been on the receiving end of a furious Spike but this somehow seems bigger.

 

Only a moment later, I am on the floor, having fallen from the sudden withdrawal of Angel's hands and body. I look over to my right and see Spike pinned down to the floor. Angel has grabbed his hair and presses him down with his forearm still across Spike's mouth, fangs mercilessly boring into his flesh, but he doesn't seem to feel it.

 

"Are you challenging me, childe?" Angel growl-hisses very lowly, threatening Spike whose hands try to find some leverage in his sire's clothing to get out of the practically helpless position he's in.

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

You bloody tosser! You wanker, let me go! My fangs! That... ow! I shred mercilessly into the poof's skin but he is sooo pissed off he isn't even noticing it. I drink down the steadily flowing blood greedily. Wouldn't waste good Sire's blood.

 

Damn, I saw Xander fall. Is he alright? Stop pulling on my hair, you sissy. I growl and start kicking but Angel's fat thigh holds me down, his knee digging into my groin. Fucking huuuurts!

 

I cease struggling, doesn't do anything to get him off me. I suck harder on the deep wound. Bloody good ... blood. Poof frowns, as much as a vamp is able to in full fighting mask, and then wrenches his arm away in sudden realization. Never been the brightest, huh?!

 

I grin at him and lazily lick away the blood smeared on my lips. Angel fumes, not sure what to do. No action always got the most brutal reaction, but that was a hundred years ago. He can't chain me up and beat the shit out of me, then fuck me in my own blood now, can he?

 

 

~ Xander ~

 

I swear I'll never understand why Spike just has to piss people off. I mean okay, so Angel appeared here in Spike's... lair and attacked me, his... lover, without any reason BUT I am sure he - okay, I give up. Spike only tried to defend me against the soulful avenger. He defended me, defended! me! Me! A cheesy smile crawls onto my face while I stare down at my saviour and feel like a girl. Still, it is kinda cute. It's not as if I really had a chance against Not-evil-anymore, man against vampire is still an uneven fight after all.

 

Somehow Spike and Angel came to a tie, just from the smile on the bloody lips of my lover everybody can see he feels he won it, but somehow I can't shake off the feeling that nothing, absolutely nothing is resolved yet.

 

Slowly, to not shock them back into action, I get back on my feet. I look around and see that the last customers have already left - who would risk it to get between these two? - and that Rasplar and Maerg are watching the scene with wide eyes.

 

Treckle seems to be frozen to the spot with two glasses in his hands, he looks too pale even for him and somehow scared is not a look that goes with him at all. I suppress the grin. I, Xander Harris, common mankind, am not scared in the face of evil, demons or aliens nor in the depths of the apocalypses, but that Treckle, demon in origin, gets weak knees from watching a little bloodplay. Hah. Who's superior! Who is superior?!

 

My eyes trail back to Spike. His lips are ruby and look wet -kissable- in the twilight of the Twilight. Bad pun, Xander. He managed to get the arrogance out of his face and looks seriously at Angel.

 

"I didn't intend to challenge you, Sire, Head of the Aurelius bloodline. I only protected what, according to the lore of the Aurelius bloodline, belongs to me, as long as I don't give up my ownership willingly or am challenged and defeated over it. If anything, you, Sire, challenged me over the ownership of the human."

 

 

~ Spike ~

 

I just hope the poof realizes his mistake and does not go into the small-print. Ownership can only be claimed by marking the human for whatever purpose for everybody to see or by siring the human for whatever purpose. He already tricked me once, as I could never claim Dru as mine as long he didn't give permission to his 'property' or I'd challenged and defeated him or he was killed and, therefore, Dru was free. Not to mention that it was a wonderful thing to torture me with. Whatever I did, asking, screaming, begging, blackmailing, he never gave the permission and he knew I wouldn't challenge him then.

 

Angel looks straight into my eyes. I can practically see the cogs turning in his head. Slowly the anger fades away and with it the vampiric forms and sadness bleeds into his eyes when he realizes just another little aspect of the bloody piece of metal in my brain. Can't even claim my ownership and under normal vampiric circumstances I wouldn't be able to hold onto my pets or my mate without marking them, nor could I build up the structure of the bloodline by siring minions or childer. No bite means no bite. Time he gets that. Stubbornly, I stick my chin up, not letting on how miserable my situation makes me and how much more his pity increases it.

 

Finally, Sire nods and relief floods me only to fade away quickly with his next words.

 

"We have to talk. You and me. You, me and the boy. I want to have everything clear and out in the open when I claim you back as my property and mark the boy to gift him to you."