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Freaking


by
EntreNous







“It’s not a spell,” Xander told Buffy seriously when he finally got around to explaining the situation to her and Willow at the Espresso Pump.

“Xander? This might come as a shock to you, but I’m pretty sure that someone would’ve needed to cast a spell to keep you two apart.” Buffy nodded, pleased with her assessment of the situation, and went back to adding too much sugar to her vanilla latte.

Willow elaborated with a smile. “I mean, the way you and Spike were sniping at each other, and glaring like you wanted to rip each other limb from limb, and then saving each other’s lives when you thought no one was looking -- it was cute!”

“Cute,” Xander repeated skeptically. “So you mean I’ve been stressed out about this whole Spike-and-me thing . . . and you both are fine with it . . . You’re not . . .”

“Worried?” Willow supplied.

Buffy sipped her drink thoughtfully. “Well, yeah. I mean, not like I want to sound like a broken record, but vampire? And Spike. And before I forget, I so owe you for the hard time you gave me about Angel . . . but sure, I’m a little worried.”

“That’s an added thing -- not that it’s not a big thing -- to being worried anyway about you. Just ‘cause relationships -- hard!” Willow supplied.

“No, no. I mean, you aren’t shocked . . . Not about Spike being a vampire but about Spike being a vampire of the male persuasion.” Xander laughed nervously.

“We get that Spike’s a guy,” Buffy said with raised eyebrows. “I mean, he’s such a sexist pig and a perv that it’d be hard to forget that part.”

Xander resisted the urge to let his head fall down onto a table with a thunk. “Spike being a guy . . . me being a guy . . . you’re saying that that’s not an issue.”

“Why would it be?” Willow asked reasonably, and Xander really did let his head smack the table.

“What about Anya?” Buffy asked cautiously when he straightened up and rubbed his forehead.

“She took it fine,” Xander said with a shrug. “She even made the standard ‘orgasm friend’ crack . . . but then again I’m pretty sure that’s because Tara was there too, and she likes to see her jump up in the air and get all red.”

“That Anya. She makes her own fun,” Willow said. “Though confidentially, Tara does most of that blushing and starting stuff for Anya’s benefit.”

“That’s kind of sweet,” Buffy said with a smile. She patted Xander’s arm, and then turned to Willow. “Did you get the notes from the American lit. survey review session?”

“That’s it?” Xander asked, dumbfounded.

Buffy and Willow exchanged looks.

“Woohoo?” Willow offered.

“No freaking?” Xander held his palms up and waved his fingers towards himself in a clear bring-it-on gesture.

“The freaking . . . we’re not freaking,” Buffy assured him. She stuck her finger into the foam of her latte and licked it off. “But the you and Spike freaking . . . we’re all fine with it.”

Xander opened his mouth.

“Not that we want details,” Buffy added hastily.

“Yeah, keep the raunchy gay details to yourself, Mr. Sex-having guy,” Willow said with a grin.

***

“Xander, I’m not quite certain what it is that you’d like me to say,” Giles said as he straightened the piles of books in front of him. He took a long draught of his coffee, caught a glimpse of Xander’s face, and settled in to the conversation reluctantly.

“How can you all be so fine with this?” Xander asked in amazement.

Giles gave him an impatient look. “I know that this seems momentous for you -- that’s as it should be. The start of a relationship moves heaven and earth for those involved, but for the rest of us things trudge along at their normal pace.”

“Spike’s a guy!” Xander cried out suddenly.

“You needn’t shout so loud,” Giles frowned. “I quite realize that Spike and you are both male.”

Xander made several incoherent gestures.

“By the bye,” Giles said slowly, “you’re by no means the first man in the world to discover that being with another man brings pleasure. So stop acting as if you’ve discovered radium, and as though we’re all about to isolate you in the contamination ward.”

Xander slumped in his chair. “I got all prepared for wigging. Now I have all of this nervous energy, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Giles smiled ruefully. “Might I suggest that you stop worrying about our lack of reaction and go spend some time with your . . . would you call him your boyfriend? Or do you prefer lover? Or how about--”

“Giles, I’m out of here before you say something else that shows how cool you are, all right?”

“Yes, by all means, leave before I say something else shocking,” Giles muttered, and returned to his books.

***

“I’m so cool,” Anya said excitedly. “How did I get to be so cool?”

“Anya, how come I’m the one that came out, and you’re the one that swept up all the attendant coolness?” Xander asked. They were walking arm and arm downtown with ice coffee in hand, and he had to grab his plastic cup harder when Anya gave a pleased little skip.

“Well, you’re just gay,” Anya said reasonably. “There’s nothing unusual or exciting about that. I, however, am a straight woman with a gay best friend. And that holds a lot of value in our contemporary society for some reason. I fully plan on exploiting the situation.”

“Oh good,” Xander said weakly.

“Will you help me pick out clothes now?” Anya asked seriously.

“Anya, just because I’m in a relationship with a guy doesn’t mean that the style fairy hit me over the head with her magic wand.”

“That is true,” Anya said slowly as she took in Xander’s ensemble. “Maybe I should continue to offer advice to you on the matter of clothing.”

“Fine, whatever.”

“You’re a little testy,” Anya said cheerfully. “Does that usually go with the coming out process?”

***

So the coming out conversations didn’t go as expected. Then again, neither did the sex having. But that part was just fine with Xander, because he didn’t think they’d be having quite so much sex as they were. And there truly was lots and lots of sex to be had with Spike.

He also didn’t think he’d be relating the blow-by-blow to Willow, but then again, she pretty much asked.

“You know, when I said that I didn’t want the details . . . ” Willow paused delicately.

“That was for Buffy’s benefit,” Xander agreed.

“Right! Don’t get me wrong; she’s cool with this thing with Spike. But--”

“But you’re more naughty,” Xander said with a grin.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Willow exclaimed, hitting him with a pillow.

***

But of course the best part of the sex having wasn’t relating details. It was having sex.

In the first three months after Xander and Spike started fucking on a regular basis, Xander lost ten pounds and Spike’s already sharp cheekbones fairly jutted out of his skin. Despite what Anya confided to Willow after watching them at the Bronze, they weren’t trying to work the skinny gay boy angle; they just kept forgetting to eat what with all of the sex.

After work, Xander would quickly make his way home to the apartment, loosening his tie on the stairwell and starting to shrug out of his suit jacket as he reached the door. He’d grab Spike wherever he was, reading in the living room, heating up blood, or painting his fingernails, and haul him into the bedroom, flinging him on the bed before frantically undoing his own belt and trousers.

By this point, they had worked out a routine. Xander would scramble out of his clothes, Spike would tease him, and then they’d fuck so hard the headboard would bang against the wall rhythmically.

After the woman next door started a petition against them into the second week of constant thumps and groans that began punctually at 6:17, they shifted their bedroom to the room abutting the hall. Now they got strange looks sometimes from people on their floor, but their neighbor eased up her campaign, and clucked at Spike sympathetically when she ran into him in the laundry room during the day. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re putting in his oatmeal, but give yourself a break or he’s going to split you in two!” she admonished him once.

Of course, the routine involved more than undressing. Xander described it to Willow as the “light banter portion of the foreplay.”

“Oooh, did you bring home the bacon?” Spike asked one time, arching his eyebrows at Xander’s haste. He lolled on the bed and wriggled suggestively with his jean-clad butt in the air.

“No talking. Undressing. The time for taking off the clothes is now,” Xander shot back, hopping out of his shoes and tugging at his socks.

“Missed you, all day today,” Spike drawled, pulling off his clothes with studied nonchalance. “Had absolutely no one interesting to speak to, and was going mad here all by myself, just scouring the stove and ironing your shirts, and trying to decide how to do my hair for your return.”

“Yeah, today, missed you, what’d you, how was your . . . uh . . . oh fuck, Spike. Naked. Now,” Xander panted, and clambered onto the bed.

“You didn’t really scour the stove, did you?” Xander asked afterwards, as he tried to catch his breath and Spike coolly drew on his cigarette.

“Yeah, right. Did do laundry, though. And was going to make a shopping list, but forgot when Blind Date came on.”

“Laundry. Yeah, okay. And shopping list, right. Have to buy food for dinner. Have to, uh . . . ” and at that juncture Spike slithered on top of him again, twisting himself into all kinds of inventive positions, and Xander would forget all about groceries for another night.

***

“Remember to eat!” Anya called out after them as Xander and Spike left the meeting headed for home.

“You too!” Spike returned distractedly.

“Yeah, we’ll let you know how that works out!” Xander shouted back with enthusiasm, shoving Spike towards the car with great haste.

“Those two are going to waste away,” Buffy commented to the sound of tires squealing down the street.

At the apartment complex, Xander and Spike were tripping over each other as they sprinted up the stairs to their place.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Xander yelped as his foot was crushed beneath Spike’s steel-toed boot just inside the doorway. “Ow, ow, oh, god, yeah,” he whimpered as Spike shifted and gnawed at his neck, pushing him up against the door and pulling his jacket off roughly.

“Okay, pet?” Spike gasped.

“Pain . . . forgotten,” Xander managed. His hands grappled at Spike’s curls, trying to pull him closer to his neck. “Ooo,” he breathed as Spike roughly stroked at the hollow of his throat with his tongue.

“Shall I carry you to the bed like a June bride?” Spike inquired, pushing and rubbing in a full-body stroke.

“God!” Xander breathed and shook his head. “Don’t . . . just don’t stop . . . oh, fuck, please!” he finished as Spike whirled him around and over the back of the couch.

“And they say most couples stop fucking when they move in with one another. What are your thoughts on that, pet?” Spike asked coolly as he yanked down Xander’s jeans. He draped himself over Xander, murmuring and nuzzling into his neck, deeply inhaling the scent of him. Xander sighed happily, then gasped sharply as Spike drew his teeth down Xander’s back, raising tiny sensitive points that prickled and buzzed.

Spike licked and fondled his way down to Xander’s smooth sac before nudging the tip of his nose along the slight crease. He groaned at the scent and the texture, feeling the tightening at that spot and hearing Xander make small helpless noises. “So lovely,” Spike murmured, watching the motions made almost despite Xander’s knowledge; legs eased further apart, a slight thrust of hips backwards, the shivers that made their way up his body emerging audibly as moans. Spike traced Xander’s cock with his fingertips before beginning to fist him steadily.

“Oh, Spike,” Xander said hoarsely, and Spike nuzzled the soft spot above his cleft, bit at his cheeks before kissing the bite marks all better and moving in towards the small opening. “Almost . . . yeah, just . . . fuck!” and Xander came all over the couch as Spike roughly pulled on his cock and licked against that sensitive spot teasingly.

***

“Perv,” Xander scoffed.

“Yeah, well . . . you know you love it,” Spike said smugly.

“If Spike could stop grabbing Xander’s arse, we could get on with this information meeting,” Giles said impatiently.

“Yeah,” Buffy said. “If you’re going to sit on Spike’s lap, try to behave while the rest of us are in the room.”

“Why does Xander need to sit on Spike’s lap anyway?” Anya asked reasonably. “There are plenty of chairs to go around.”

“I’m pretty sure that it’s a boyfriend-y affectionate thing,” Tara said with a smile.

“Okay,” Buffy sighed. “We get that you’re doing it. Just buck up for the last mile here -- we’re almost done with this meeting and then you can go home and --”

“And do unspeakable things to each other,” Willow said in mock haughtiness.

“Okay. Paying attention now,” Xander said, sitting up straight on Spike’s lap.

***

“Spike?” Xander asked as they were driving home. “Did it surprise you that nobody thought it was . . . I don’t know . . . unusual or weird that we got together? That no one started freaking?”

Spike took a long draw on his cigarette. “Don’t much care about their reactions. Good that you didn’t get much trouble from them, but --”

“See, that’s just it,” Xander said, making the turn into the complex’s parking lot. “Not much trouble. No trouble.”

“Are you saying that you wanted trouble?” Spike asked incredulously.

“No! Yes. I don’t know. This is just new to me -- and I thought at least there would be a big reaction. Part of the getting used to it process, you know?”

Spike regarded him coolly and shrugged. They got out of the car in silence.

Xander opened the door to the apartment and tossed the keys onto the side table with a sigh. Great. Now it looked like he’d managed to piss off Spike in the process of worrying about the lack of shock over his big gay relationship.

“Xander,” Spike said quietly, and Xander turned to see Spike advancing on him.

“What?” Xander asked after swallowing to combat dry-throat.

Spike slid his hands to cup Xander’s ass. Then he drew Xander’s head down and bit at his earlobe. “If you’re looking for trouble, Xander, I’m more than happy to give it to you.”



The End










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