PART EIGHT

Xander felt Spike’s mouth ghost over his skin, the lips merely brushing over one side of his chest and then the other. Suddenly Spike lunged, his mouth fastening around Xander’s nipple, his lips and tongue and flicking, biting and sucking insistently, drawing it to a point.

Xander gasped, his hands sliding down from Spike’s shoulders to grip smooth leather clad arms. He felt the blunt edges of Spike’s teeth scrape slowly across his nipple and he bucked against him hard, feeling his erection, already at an impressive ‘full-impulse power’ immediately accelerate to an astonishing ‘warp 8.5.’

Spike braced himself as Xander thrust against him, feeling a strangled gasp shudder out of Xander's chest. He looked up to see Xander’s face burst into an embarrassed flush and followed the younger man’s eyes down to where Xander’s thin sleep pants were tenting between them. Spike quirked an eyebrow, “Definitely not a lighter,” he muttered, pressing his lips back against Xander’s chest as his hand trailed down a trembling stomach to slide beneath the drawstring pants, filling his hand with hot, silky flesh.

Xander’s head thumped against Spike’s shoulder, his breath warm and damp against the cool skin of Spike’s neck. Spike felt Xander’s lips tease below his ear as he groaned, “Way better than I thought.”

“What’s that, pet?” Spike murmured as he lightly bit a trail between Xander’s pecs.

“The other night,” Xander said, his words muffled as he hotly mouthed the skin below Spike’s jaw, “I, uh, was drinking a beer and, well, I kind of made my hand cold and um, did this,” Xander thrust tightly in Spike’s slowly pumping hand, “and pretended it was you.”

Spike suddenly stilled against him and Xander raised his head to see the cords in Spike’s neck standing out, his jaw clenched and tight and his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move,” Spike gritted out.

“Wha…what’s the matter?” Xander asked, pressing closer to him in concern.

“Don’t!” Spike groaned, his hand tightening suddenly on Xander’s cock, his body tense and shaking. He drew a couple of ragged breaths, opening his eyes to see Xander staring at him with a mixture of rejection and worry. “That…what you just said,” he swallowed thickly, “give me a minute or this is about to be over. Get me, mate?”

Xander chuckled lightly, relieved. He teasingly pumped his hips into Spike’s hand, hearing the vampire mutter a curse and squeeze his hand tighter around Xander’s hard length.

“C’mon,” Spike said, giving him one last smooth stroke and then turning to lead him over to the couch. Spike stopped, noticing for the first time the bottles and cans and boxes that littered the table and most of the couch and floor. “Bloody hell, Xander, this is disgusting.”

“Says the man with skulls piled up around his bed.”

“That’s a very deliberate bit of ambience. This is just…filth.”

As Xander started to disagree, Spike sighed and stopped all argument with, “When you don’t have room to shag? It’s gone too far.”

Xander grinned and grabbed Spike’s hand, pulling him toward the bedroom. Xander backed into the room until his legs hit the edge of the bed. He tugged at Spike’s hand, pulling him closer. He reached up with the other and did something he’d been wanting do all week: he cupped Spike’s jaw, fitting his thumb into the hollow below the jutting cheekbone. As his thumb brushed back and forth he looked up into half-lidded blue eyes, swallowing hard.

This was Spike. Spike’s eyes raking him from head to foot, Spike’s fingers teasing down his stomach to his groin, Spike’s tongue darting out to wet those full, reddened lips. Xander felt the shaking start low in his belly and hovered fearfully on the edge of total freak out, and then he tightened his fingers on Spike’s, pulling that hard body flush against him. He reached up and pushed the duster off of Spike’s shoulders and then spun around and pushed Spike to the bed and fell on top of him.

Xander looked down into a flash of heat from Spike’s eyes, feeling rough denim-covered hardness grind hard against his own aching cock. Hmm, likes the power games, huh? Xander thought, grasping the hem of Spike’s t-shirt, raking it up and dropping his head to press rough kisses against Spike’s neck and chest, following the well muscled indentation down the center of Spike’s torso until he could delve his tongue into a shallow navel, feeling firm skin tighten under his lips.

He’d seen Spike without a shirt before, but he’d had to be satisfied with quick, darting glances and turning away before that too-knowing gaze could catch him staring. Taking advantage of this chance to just look, Xander spread his hands on Spike’s ribcage and let his eyes and tongue follow every arch, every curve.

Spike groaned under Xander’s lips and said, “Xander…pet, look, I know you want to experience the whole thing, try all 31 flavors, right? But I’ve been thinking about this,” he drew a deep shuddering breath, all week…all summer…since the first time I ever bloody saw you… “for days and, oh, hell, Xander, I hope you don’t need hearts and flowers, because right now I think we both just need to get off, yeah?”

Spike wrapped his arms around Xander and rolled them over, standing to pull his shirt over head and ripped open the buttons of his jeans, shoving them down his legs and tearing his boots off. Naked, he looked back down at Xander, all that tanned skin framed by pale sheets, the eyes huge and dark, darting from Spike’s cock to his lips and back.

Spike dropped his hands to the waist of Xander’s pants and tugged, sliding them slowly down, smiling in appreciation as Xander’s cock sprang free, dark with blood and so hard the skin seemed almost shiny. Tossing the pants away, Spike slowly lowered himself back down, bracing his hands on either side of Xander’s broad shoulders, letting his thumbs reach out and rub soothingly at the hot skin.

He looked into eyes filled with want and fear and Xander’s heart was thudding through both of their chests, making him tremble with the force of Xander’s desire. “Shh,” Spike said quietly. “Not gonna do anything you don’t want. Just gonna make it good. Let me make it good, Xander.”

Spike lowered his head and bit at those full lips, bringing their lower bodies in contact, twisting his hips to allow his cock to drag up Xander’s in one slow move and then lifting away teasingly.

“Oh, my sweet fucking God,” Xander moaned, grabbing at Spike’s hips to pull him back. Spike muffled a laugh and thrust against Xander again, faster this time, feeling the slow sweet burning start as their flesh rubbed together.

Xander’s head fell back, stunned by the feeling of cock against cock, never expecting that skin so soft and hard at the same time could feel like this.

“Never knew about this, did you?” Spike whispered as he drew sharply on the skin of Xander’s chest, bringing the blood to the surface and marking him.

“N-no,” Xander stammered, bringing his knees up to clutch at Spike’s plunging hips. “Spike, oh, shit, I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna…”

“Don’t have to be the gentleman for me, Xander, the sooner you do, the sooner I, oh, God, love,” Spike gasped, feeling the hot rush hit his stomach and thighs as Xander arched against him, crying out. He thrust desperately against the shuddering body beneath him and then threw back his head with a deep groan as he came, his body jerking and tightening above Xander’s.

He fell against Xander’s chest, rubbing his hand absently at the sweat pooling on the smooth, warm skin and then looked up into Xander’s heavy-lidded and dazed eyes.

“So, ah, what do we do with this now?” Xander asked, gesturing between them.

Spike looked down at him, his lip curling up a bit. “I thought sometimes men just fuck.”

Xander laughed with a groan, reaching up to push his sweaty hair off his forehead. “Yeah, I might have been talking a little shit back there.”

“Huh,” Spike said, giving him a smirk that was decidedly less snarky than usual, “didn’t notice. Question is, I guess, what do you want to do with this?”

Xander looked down at their bodies, still pressed together, pale skin against brown, dark curls tangling wetly, thighs trembling together slightly with aftershocks. This was always so easy in the movies; people either said thanks and walked away, or curled up together and whispered words they didn’t mean.

Not wanting to do either of those, Xander fell back on the one thing he’d been able to count on the last few days of endless confusion. “Shower?”

Spike said nothing and Xander carefully eased out from under him, leaning over to grab one of many damp towels off of the floor and using it to wipe at his stomach and thighs. He held it out to Spike, watching the pale fingers close on the dark cloth and then stood, walking toward the bathroom. “Coming?”

Spike rubbed the towel across his stomach, the muscles clenching as he felt the evidence that Xander had touched him, wanted him, wiping away. He stood, the towel dropping from his fingers as he heard the shower start and the quiet thuds of Xander stepping into it.

He walked quietly into the bathroom, stopping to stare as he realized that Xander had left the shower curtain slightly open for him to step inside. He looked at the soft, blurry outlines of Xander’s body visible through the sheer plastic and swallowed.

“Spike?” Xander’s voice rose above the sound of the water and it was a little shaky, uncertain.

“Yeah,” Spike said, starting slightly and then pushing back the curtain to get in.

Xander stood with his back to him, his head tipped up to the spray, his hair dark and curling wetly against his neck. Spike dropped his gaze and let his eyes travel up Xander from his firmly planted, high-arched feet, to strong calves, lightly brown and dusted with dark hair, to firm buttocks that were just a shade or two lighter than his tanned back and thighs. There’s a story there, Spike thought, raising a brow.

He watched the muscles in Xander’s back and arms contract as he washed. Xander glanced over his shoulder at him and said, “Well?”

“Er…what’s that?” Spike asked, dragging his eyes from Xander’s flexing ass and thighs.

“Here.” Xander handed him a bottle of pale green soap and Spike took it automatically, watching white foam swirl down the center of Xander’s chest and stomach to settle in dark hair and frame…

“Spike.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, his gaze snapping up to meet Xander’s grinning, if slightly pink, face.

Xander shook his head, turning back to rinse as Spike popped open the cap of the bottle in his hand, grimacing slightly as the scent of apples drifted up. He squeezed a bit into his palm, rubbing it across his chest and stomach, then letting his hand drift lower, smoothing the gel into his skin as he moved closer to Xander.

Letting his slick front slide against Xander’s back, his cock just nudging at the base of Xander’s spine, he wrapped his arms around the warm, wet body in front of him. He slid his hands across Xander’s sleek stomach and down to grip the hot, firm…

“Spike!” Xander leapt away from him, sliding against the slick bottom of the tub and catching himself on the soap dish. Spike jerked back, a hand shooting out to steady Xander.

“Gah!” Xander cried out as Spike’s wet, soap smooth hand slid from his hip to his inner thigh. “That’s not…”

Xander turned slightly, seeing Spike looking back at him, his head tilted, a small frown on his face.

Xander groaned. “Why am I always trying to talk people out of having sex with me?” Spike’s frown deepened and Xander sighed. “That’s not what I had in mind,” he explained, turning to rinse the last of the soap off his body. “I just meant….I just didn’t want you sticking to my sheets in the morning.”

Spike reached out, running a finger slowly down the indention of Xander’s spine, feeling the muscles quiver beneath his hand. “So, I’m staying?” he asked, his voice deep and quiet.

Xander turned, smiling slightly. “Guess so.”

Spike nodded, moving so that Xander could edge past him and reach for a towel. Spike stepped beneath the shower long enough for most of the suds to wash away and then cut off the shower. He turned to see Xander wrapping a fluffy, pink towel around his hips, tucking it so that a stylized monogrammed “X” hovered right above his groin.

Spike snickered. “Thanks, love. Might’ve forgotten where to find it.”

Xander frowned at him, opening his mouth to question that, just as Spike reached out to pull a matching towel from the hook behind Xander.

“No!” Xander yelled as Spike raised the pink terrycloth to his face.

Spike looked back at him, confused at Xander’s horrified stare, and then glanced down, seeing the matching “A” monogrammed on the pink cloth in his hands. “Right,” Spike muttered, dropping the towel and shoving past Xander.

He walked back into the bedroom, angrily scooping his t-shirt up from the floor and struggling to pull it down over his wet skin with one hand as he dug for his jeans with the other.

“Spike,” Xander said, coming up behind him. “Look…I’m sorry I yelled. Here.” A hand reached in front of Spike’s chest, offering a towel, the black “X” pointed toward him.

Spike yanked it to him, mopping at his chest and stomach below the bunched t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Xander said again, quietly. “It’s just that...she took everything. That’s the only thing left that’s hers.”

Spike shot him a dark look as he dropped the towel and bent to jerk his jeans on. “Not the only thing.”

“Spike…I don’t want to do this.”

“Yeah, I got that the first time, mate.” Spike turned back to him, missing the way those dark eyes swept over the t-shirt that clung wetly to his chest, baring his stomach, the half-buttoned jeans framing a line of dark hair and the beginning of darker curls. “So, thanks for the shag, been lovely…”

“No,” Xander interrupted, stalking naked over to the bed and peeling back the sheet to slip inside. “I mean I’m not doing this; I’m not fighting with you.” He settled against the pillow, looking back at Spike who stood unmoving, silent and still half-dressed. “I’m tired of fighting. Beyond fucking tired. I’m going to sleep. You can get in here with me and sleep, or you can go. But I’m not arguing about it with you.”

Spike looked at him for a long moment, and then sighed and shoved his jeans off again, wrestling the damp t-shirt over his head. He walked over to the bed, glaring at the small grin playing on Xander’s lips.

Spike grunted softly as he crawled over Xander. “You’re not why I’m staying. You’ve seen my crypt. It’s worse than this dump.” He settled down on the other side of Xander, whipping the sheet over his hips and laying back, his arm resting over his eyes.

Xander lay flat on his back, his arms on top of the sheet and then he turned slightly toward Spike, jerking back as his foot brushed against a cool leg. He squirmed for a bit, trying to get comfortable, and then heard Spike give a frustrated hiss before he reached out to pull Xander to him.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Xander,” he said, sighing, as he slid one arm beneath Xander’s head and curved his body into him. “I just washed your come off of me. I think you can handle sleeping next to me.”

“Oh, well that’s nice and vague, Spike,” Xander sniped, wiggling closer. “Can you paint me a more vivid picture?”

“Be glad to paint it, mate,” Spike said, his voice a low growl as he slid a hand down Xander’s stomach. “Paint it all over you, if you like.”

“Spike,” Xander said warningly, grabbing at wandering hands. He was a quiet for a minute. “Why is that? How come people can, you know, get off with each other, be all sweaty and tangly and with the body fluids and it’s no big deal…but this,” he said, nudging Spike’s shoulder, “seems so personal and scary?”

“Scary? Well, you’re the one snuggling a vampire, pet, I guess you’d know from scary,” Spike chuckled.

“I’m serious. I mean, not that I’ve ever been big with the get in, get off and get out – ”

“Probably ‘cause you’re not the one doing the getting off and getting out,” Spike said wryly.

“– but,” Xander continued with a warning pinch to Spike’s side, “it just that this seems a lot more intimate…”

“Oh, bloody hell, Harris,” Spike said, pulling back. “This is why you didn’t want to get blown in the shower? So we could talk about our sodding feelings?”

“No, well, I wanted to talk about…you were going to blow me in the shower?” Xander’s eyes glazed a little, his point lost.

“No, I was going to do your poncy hair. What feelings, Xander? Do you even like me?”

“I thought I did…or I was starting to, and then we did this,” Xander said, waving his hand between them.

“So…you don’t like me anymore because we shagged.”

“Spike, I’m hovering just above total mental breakdown. Right now I’m only concentrating on the fact that you feel pretty damn good. But if I stop to think that just a week ago it was Anya here,” he stopped and Spike tensed below him. “And that if I lift up this sheet, and we’re naked and there’s evidence that we’re both guys…”

“Oh, plenty of hard evidence,” Spike said silkily, lightly brushing his hips against Xander’s.

“And that you started this by kissing me when you knew I was too drunk to stop you…”

“’M not the one goin’ around shoving blokes into graves and tongue fucking them,” Spike interrupted.

“And now I’m laying here naked with someone who I could have cheerfully staked an hour ago…”

“Should have mentioned that bit, mate, didn’t think you were ready for it…”

“Spike!” Xander jerked away, pulling the sheet up to his chest, and then realizing what he was doing and dropping it, red-faced.

Spike fell back against the pillows, laughing, as Xander dropped his head into his hands, groaning. “God. Why am I suddenly turning into a girl?”

Spike shrugged, still snickering. “Dunno. Could be because you’re in bed, naked, with someone else’s manly bits nudging you every time you move your ass.”

“Have I mentioned today how much I don’t like you?” Xander asked, a small smile of remembrance on his lips.

Spike’s smile faded as he looked up into Xander’s decidedly calmer face. “Might have let it slip in once or twice.”

Xander moaned softly. "I can't believe you remember that," he said, leaning down to press his lips against Spike’s, feeling the mouth beneath his open hotly, a hard body immediately pressing against him. Xander bent closer, rubbing against firm thighs and a hardening cock and then they heard it. Low, deep and rumbling as Xander pulled back with a shocked expression, his hand pressed to his stomach. “Shit. I forgot to eat. I’ve forgotten my keys, my stake, my own birthday…but I’ve never forgotten to eat.”

He looked back down at Spike, seeing amused irritation cross his face before the vampire fell back with a groan. “Hungry?” Xander asked.

“Nah,” Spike said, running a finger slowly up Xander’s thigh. “I ate before I,” his fingers tightened around hard flesh, “came.”

Xander slid out of bed with a groan. “Okay, that was lame. Even for you.”

“Xander.”

He turned back to see Spike sprawled naked against the sheets, a pale hand running slowly from his chest to his stomach, the fingers pausing to curl in slow circles below his navel. Xander smiled weakly and turned to head back toward the kitchen.

“Oh, right,” Spike said, jumping up from the bed. “You didn’t wanna shag in the shower, you wanted to get clean. Now you’re crawling out of bed with a,” his eyes dropped, “very nice bit of interest.” Xander’s hands automatically dropped to his groin, and then jerked away, finding that touching wasn’t doing anything to lessen the evidence.

Spike threw his hands up. “Oh, well, by all means then, let’s find you a spot of dinner. Then maybe something will be on the telly.” He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “And then we maybe we can sort your socks or grout your tile.”

He looked up, seeing an uncertain Xander standing in the doorway, his eyes darting from Spike and then into the silent safety of the living room. “Why’d you ask me to stay if you didn’t want this?”

“This what?” Xander asked, and then shook his head, easing out into the living room. “I’m hungry, okay? And before, no one likes to be sticky, right?”

“I don’t know, kind of liked that feeling.” Spike slipped his hand down his stomach, now clean and dry, but remembering the warmth, the wetness that had been Xander’s sweat, come and heat. “Liked it a lot, pet.”

Xander stopped, his hand on the doorway. “Stop calling me that.”

“Calling you what, pet?” Spike said, his voice silky and dark as he closed the distance between him and Xander.

“That. Pet. Your…Buffy name.” Xander turned and walked out, his hand slamming hard against the door as he left.

Spike sighed, looking down at his bare feet curling into one of Xander’s t-shirts. Who the bloody hell did you have to fuck to get a fuck around here? He walked into the living room, seeing Xander still naked, his body dark but glowing hotly under the ridiculous red twinkle lights strung about the kitchen as he dug around in the cupboards.

Xander found half a jar of peanut butter and a box of saltines and set about making cracker sandwiches. He rattled around in the silverware drawer loudly, trying to drown out the sounds of irritated vampire coming from the living room.

“Wasn’t my ‘Buffy’ name,” Spike said quietly.

Xander hunched his shoulders, concentrating on spreading peanut butter evenly and eating one as soon as it was made. “Yeah, it was. Heard you say it more than once.”

“Yeah, but,” Spiked picked up two empty bottles, clinking them together distractedly. “Just something I say. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then don’t say it,” Xander said as he turned and leaned back against the counter, brushing crumbs from his chest as he licked peanut butter off his fingers. He looked up, seeing Spike lounging against the edge of the table, his body taut and arched as he fumbled through the mess on the counter top for matches. Xander’s eyes lifted to the cigarette clenched between Spike’s teeth.

“You can’t smoke that in here,” he said pointlessly, knowing Spike would smoke anywhere he damn well pleased, and that he should just be grateful if he ashed somewhere other than the carpet.

“Need something to do with my hands,” Spike said, lifting a brow as he struck a match and inhaled deeply.

Xander shifted against the counter, feeling the sharp edge press into his naked back, the cold tile doing nothing to calm the heat racing through the rest of him. His eyes followed the lines of Spike’s body, noting that, even through all the word games and distractions, they were both still hard. He looked back up into Spike’s eyes that were peering at him steadily through a cloud of smoke. He wanted to see soulless or at least fangless, wanted to feel anger or irritation, but felt nothing more than the rush of mindless desire he’d been drowning in all week.

“This is so wrong,” he said tightly. “It’s only been a week…”

“You’re awful hung up on this ‘week’ thing, Xander.” Spike stood, gesturing toward the door. “Would it be better if I came back later? Does that work better with your timetable?”

“Why are you still here, Spike?”

“Why do you keep asking me that, Xander?”

“Answer me,” Xander said impatiently, wiping his hands angrily against the towel on the counter. “Why are you still here? And don’t tell me you’ve got nowhere else to go – I’ve seen that movie and I don’t think you can sell the line.”

Spike dropped his cigarette into the nearest beer bottle, crossing the room before its extinguishing hiss had even died. He stopped in front of Xander, letting their bodies drag against each other and tilting his head slightly to look up into hot, angry eyes.

“I’m here because of a promise you made to me in a cemetery. You promised me this,” he said, leaning in to bite sharply on Xander’s bottom lip, being careful to ease off just short of causing anything more than a brief sting. “And this,” his hand dropped to Xander’s cock, giving it a short stroke as his other hand slipped around Xander’s hip to close firmly on the curve of his ass. “And this.”

Spike lowered his head to drop a kiss on Xander’s shoulder as he felt the larger, warmer body press briefly against his. “I never said that,” Xander groaned, his hands closing around Spike’s hips before he even managed to get the words out.

“Didn’t have say it,” Spike said, slipping slowly to his knees as his mouth left a soft, cool trail down the center of Xander’s body. “Pet.”

His lips opened around Xander’s cock, his tongue flicking firmly just beneath the head before his mouth slid wetly down it, swallowing Xander’s shuddering gasp along with his hot flesh. He felt Xander’s fingers twine tentatively in his hair and then they were tightening, tugging painfully as Xander wrenched away from him.

Spike looked up, his eyes almost black as true anger finally kicked in. His lips, bruised from being rudely torn away from what he was sure was the most amazing blow job the boy had ever had, were opening to give a final ‘sod off’ before he made his exit. And then he was spinning, his feet rising off the floor and his head being saved from cracking against cold linoleum by the warm muscled arm that slid beneath it.

Then that arm was sliding away, the palm turning and running firmly down Spike’s chest. It was followed by hot lips that mouthed his nipples, the contours of his rib cage, the tight skin of his stomach, then paused and brushed slowly, maddeningly, lower before they were pressing against the head of his cock, discovering the foreskin and drawing back, and then pressing closer in exploration.

Feeling the softness of Xander’s hair teasing against his stomach as a hot mouth suddenly sucked him in. Finding a curious tongue, that was way too awkward and inexperienced to make him tense and gasp like this, gently probing at the slit. Spike reached down and touched the top of Xander’s head, his fingers getting lost in all of that dark hair, watching as darker eyes were lifted to his. “What are you doing?” Spike asked, cursing himself for the loss of heat and wet where he needed it most.

“Making good on a promise,” Xander said, with an extremely familiar quirk of his brow, and then hot, moist lips and tongue were back to work, tugging at the skin of Spike’s cock, and hands were reaching to lift his hips. Spike felt his legs sliding up and over strong arms as Xander knelt before him, that incredible mouth moving faster and harder, that clever tongue learning quickly how to make Spike stop questioning and start moaning.

Suddenly Spike felt himself dropped to the floor with a thud, the warm mouth still moving frantically on his cock, but Xander’s hand reaching for his own hardness. Spike watched those long, tanned fingers working quickly, moving in the same rhythm as the tongue that drummed along the underside of his erection. Xander’s other hand tightened almost painfully on Spike’s thigh and he moved his mouth faster, his fingers biting into Spike’s skin as a muffled groan was buried against Spikes’ groin.

Spike tangled his fingers in Xander’s hair, his body tight as he came, thrusting shallowly and groaning, “Xander,” just as he felt Xander pull away from him and arch back, a warm spatter hitting Spike’s hip and side as Xander fell across him with a moan.

Xander’s damp cheek and slack mouth brushed beneath Spike’s nipple, rubbing mindlessly for a moment and then a shocked, proudly gleeful face was lifting to look into Spike’s. “I think I can sleep now,” Xander said with a chuckle.

“Promises, promises,” Spike muttered, swiping a thumb across Xander’s wet, swollen lips.