Behind Closed Doors
by Tienco
The infinite feeling of falling is one I'm familiar with. I fall every time
I look into those blue eyes, every time those cool fingers caress my skin, I
fall again.
I fall in love with him, I fall deeper in the abyss that he's managed to
pull me into. . .I fall.
He's lying in bed beside me now, his cool naked body pressed against mine.
"Xander," he murmurs, tracing two twin feathers over my chest, causing
goosebumps to rise on my flesh. He likes to tease, always teasing, forever
pushing my boundaries.
My limits seem to expand each time.
I turn my head, looking up at his beautiful face - all sharp with angular
planes, watching as the shadows from the moon plays on his skin. He's pale,
much too pale for a human, but beautiful nonetheless. He could have been
sculpted from marble, hand carved by a god.
When he's behind closed doors, when he lies naked on my bed, when all
sarcasm is pushed aside and it's just *Spike* I see, it amazes me, throws my
entire perception of his image off.
Outside, when others see him, he is a bad ass, the way he saunters around
town, the duster blowing in the wind, the very *air* about him - it
*screams* "Look at me! I am *evil* and I am *beautiful* and I *know* it!"
My Spike truly is the Big Bad. He may have the chip, but the thoughts are
still there, the evil still resides deep within, and he would have no
problem letting it lash out to bite someone on the ass.
But behind closed doors. . .
Behind closed doors, as he stretches on my bed, his skin growing taut,
defining his muscles. . .behind closed doors as he watches me with midnight
blue eyes from under heavy lids. . .behind closed doors as his long fingers
trace circle eights on his stomach, watching me, waiting for me to undress
and join him. . .behind closed doors he is soft, he is gentle, he is caring,
and he is mine.
His kiss-bruised lips run across my skin, across my chest, stopping to
gently bite a nipple. I moan, shifting on the bed under his ministrations.
I run my fingers through soft ungelled blond hair, amazed yet again at how
wavy it is, how silky. I always imagined his hair would be stiff and
unyielding, from all the bleach he's undoubtedly subjected it to all the
years he's been a blonde. And yet, his hair is soft, silky, almost like
running my fingers against satin.
I close my eyes and surrender to him, surrendering to his touch, his love,
even his bite. There is no pain when he brushes his fangs along my skin,
when he pierces my flesh. Only pleasure, only elation.
~*~
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. "Spike," I murmur, wanting nothing more
than to grab his arm and drag him back to my apartment, "what the hell do
you want now?"
Buffy's glaring at him, wondering why he's standing in the middle of the
Magic Box, annoying her yet again. Willow and Tara aren't even bothering to
pay attention to him, completely wrapped up in their conversation about
crystals and talismans. Dawn is watching him with wide eyes, *obviously*
scared of him, even though he couldn't hurt her if he wanted to.
Riley looks as if he could kill, eyeing the stake sitting on the counter
behind Spike, just *wishing* he had magical powers like our resident witches
do, *wishing* he could urge the stake to move across the counter, fly
through the air and turn Spike into ash.
Spike grins the cocky grin I fell in love with so long ago. "I just came by
to give my goodbyes."
My heart drops. He's *leaving*?
"*Finally!*" Buffy exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air to emphasize
her point. "You are getting the hell out of Sunnydale. Right? Right?
Please tell me you are leaving, Spike."
Please, don't tell me you are leaving, Spike.
"Of course not, you bint! If I left, I wouldn't be able to witness the
beauty of your gory, bloody death!" he exclaims.
"Huh?" Buffy asks. "Run that by me again? What about my death?"
Willow and Tara look up now, suddenly interested in our conversation. I
shift from foot to foot, wondering what Spike is talking about now.
He glances at me, so quickly only I see it, because I'm looking for it.
"Your *death*," he says. "The new demons in town. They are lookin' for ya,
pet. You and your bloody little gang of do-gooders."
"There are new demons in town?" Buffy asks weakly, turning to me. I shrug.
She glances at Riley, and he does the same.
"Oh, goddess, does Giles know about them?" Willow asks, standing up quickly.
She moves to the bookshelves, looking for a book before realizing that she
has no clue what she's looking for. She turns back to Spike, chewing her
bottom lip. "Spike? What are they?"
He curls his thumbs through his belt loops, smirking at us. He rocks back
and forth on his feet, looking completely delicious, and it's all I can do
not to attack him right there. The fact that all of my friends are there,
*including* my girlfriend, stops me. "I might tell ya, if you offer things
that I want. Money, perhaps. A pint or five of blood." He licks his lips,
glancing at me again. "Maybe even a nummy treat or two."
No one knows that he calls me his nummy treat. No one knows what goes on
behind closed doors.
"A *nummy* treat? What the *hell* is a nummy treat?" Buffy cries.
He shrugs slightly, glancing down, a smirk on his full lips. "A brunette.
I want a brunette to sink my fangs into, someone to drink from, someone to
shag all day long. A mortal - warmth."
"I am *not* giving you a *person*!" Buffy cries in anger.
"*Fine* then!" he explodes. "If you won't give me what I demand, I won't
tell you it's a Moharr Demon!"
I look down, covering my smirk. Willow's already grabbed the 'Demon,
Demonology, and You' book, quickly flipping through it to find out what it
is that threatens us this time. Riley's moved to her side, trying to decide
what contraband weapons he will have to use to destroy it. Tara's looking
over Willow's shoulder, probably trying to decide if she can use magic on
it.
Buffy's still yelling, not even realizing that Spike has given her the
information she wants.
I assume the 'macho guy' attitude, deciding I'll be the one to *throw* him
out. Anya grins in pride - she loves it when the testosterone starts
flowing. Says it makes me look sexier.
I walk over to Spike, grabbing his arm roughly. He yanks it away, in
perfect show, as he would if he weren't secretly my lover. I grab it again,
growling slightly. He glances at me, an eyebrow arched in surprise.
However, his eyes are dancing with merriment - he *loves* when I growl at
him. "Come on, Spike, we don't have time for your antics. You aren't
getting money, you aren't getting a nummy treat. . ." I start dragging him
to the door, "you aren't getting *anything*. You should just stay the hell
away."
I drag him out the door and as soon as we know they can't see us, he reaches
up, grabbing my forearm. He pulls me into the alley, ducking us into
shadows. He pushes me against the wall and I moan softly, needing to feel
his body against mine.
I can almost feel his coolness radiating through our clothes as he presses
against me, licking my neck possessively. I tilt my head back, exposing my
neck more. He doesn't bruise me, like I know he wants to. Anya notices
*everything* and we have to be careful. He always bites in places where she
'd never look. . .my ankle, my inner thigh at the point where it meets my
body. . .
"So. . ." he murmurs, "how did I do?"
"Beautifully. . .thanks for the warning," I whisper. I trail my fingers
along the back of his neck.
"Do I get my nummy treat?" he asks, looking up at me. I can see his yellow
eyes glowing in the shadows, wanting, needing, craving me.
"I'll be home by two," I say softly. "I fully expect you to be in my bed
waiting."
He leans in, brushing his lips against mine. "I'll be there, Xander."
"Hopefully naked," I chuckle. I capture his lips in a passionate kiss, one
that distorts reality.
I realize suddenly that I need this man, I need him in my life. I know that
for now, it's just behind closed doors. . .
But soon, that won't be enough. Soon it will have to be more.
End
