By Jane Davitt
Sequel to Predatory Acts
Xander was hurting. Xander was his. He had to make it better. Spike had no hang ups about tears. Vampires didn’t cry as a rule but their victims did. They cried, they begged, they screamed for mercy. It was a human thing. Deciding that Xander had cried enough, he forced his head up and studied the wet face. After a comprehensive glance he said tersely, “Sniff. Better, but not good enough. Here. Blow on this.”
“That’s my shirt.”
“I got it messy anyway. Blow.”
Xander obeyed him and was about to mop up his face with a relatively clean bit of shirt when Spike took it from him and tossed it on the floor. “I’ll do that.” Leaning forward he stroked the tears from his face with the back of his hand and then gently closed Xander’s eyes, brushing the last of them away and kissing Xander’s mouth as a grace note. Xander’s eyes opened for a startled second and then shut on a sigh as the kiss deepened. When Spike’s teeth bit into his lip, tasting the salt, he moaned and pulled Spike back with him so they were lying on the bed, legs tangled and hands free. The kisses grew harder, their hands more demanding, and when Spike found his arms pinned above his head as Xander’s other hand blurred on his cock he decided Xander was feeling better. When Xander leaned over and snagged the discarded bottle of lube, smoothing it over himself in a way that suggested he’d had a lot of practice, he was sure of it. Xander entered him with one long steady thrust, his teeth clenched to hold back a whimpered moan, and Spike grinned up at the contorted face above him and whispered wickedly, “You’ll scream before I’m done with you and that’s a promise.”
Xander curved down to bite Spike’s shoulder, tasting his own tears. “You first.”
Xander sighed sleepily, one arm flung across Spike’s chest, his mind and body both finally relaxed enough to find the rest that had eluded him. As he sank into an exhausted sleep Spike studied the face of a man he would have sworn was his enemy and smiled ruefully. Full of surprises, this place was. It took the Hellmouth to make William the Bloody fall for a human but it looked as if that was what had happened, if not two years ago, then in the last two hours. His smile faded. The lost memories were a problem. It infuriated him that he couldn’t smash down the wall that separated him from what had happened. He wanted to know, wanted to find out just what had happened. His love for Dru had been strong enough to endure for over a century and yet he’d felt enough concern over Xander to rob himself of what sounded like a couple of wild nights. Why? Another look at Xander gave him no clues. His life had changed so much in such a short time. Dru had gone. Left him after more than a century of what he had believed to be mutual love. It had been. It was Angelus coming back that had unsettled her, made her leave. Spike found himself growling as the memories twisted around him like brambles, painful and clinging, and stopped as Xander’s forehead creased with worry, his hand reaching out blindly. Spike covered it with his own, squeezing gently, watching the frown smooth away.
Sighing, he settled down to sleep.
Xander woke with his dreams rolling away like jewel coloured marbles dropped from a bag, vanishing in the dusty corners of his mind. Finding that Spike was still curled up against him forced a hasty re evaluation of some of the dreams. Memories. Real. Not his fantasies any more. He felt a tingling, grinding heaviness as his cock, for once brighter than the rest of him, worked out the correct response to what was probably the vampire sign language for ‘good morning’. Spike’s fingers curled under his balls and Xander frowned. Was that something to do with how he took his coffee?
“Morning, pet,” Spike murmured, his fingers gently prowling as Xander’s clouded eyes began to clear.
“White, two sugars.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Xander smiled. “I’m still half asleep, ignore me.”
“Suit yourself.” Spike rolled over, his back to Xander, and stared at the wall.
Xander opened his mouth to protest and then studied Spike’s back. It didn’t look offended. It looked...expectant. He reached out to hug Spike, letting his hand trail down over ribs and stomach to an erection that matched his own, nuzzling and nipping at the curve of his neck. Spike shuddered and he bit down harder, his hips matching the movement of his hand as he rubbed his cock against Spike’s ass in slow, sleepy upward thrusts.
Spike leaned back enough for Xander to kiss him. The angle was awkward but the kiss made up for it. Spike twisted around and the kiss turned from tender to fierce, desire blazing up from embers that hadn’t cooled overnight. Xander knew how this would end but it was the middle that was so full of unknown possibilities.
“Xander,” Spike said, his tongue doing its best to make a shower unnecessary – or possibly essential – “Someone’s coming.”
Xander went numb with horror. His first thought – that Spike was joking or giving a running commentary – died as quickly as his erection. He could hear Willow’s high voice making polite chit chat with his mother and he knew that it was only a matter of moments before they exhausted all they had to say to each other and she came down the stairs.
“Spike! It’s Willow! Do something!”
Spike gave him a disgusted look and slapped his backside hard. “Calm down, Harris.”
The slap didn’t do the trick – far from it – but being called ‘Harris’ did. Xander took a deep breath and jerked his head towards the shower. “Go in there. Don’t come out until she’s gone.”
Spike opened his mouth to argue and then shrugged. Rolling off the bed he strolled towards the small bathroom throwing in a gratuitous wiggle of his backside that had Xander transfixed for precious seconds. As soon as he was out of sight Xander grabbed the first clothes he could find and skinned into them. The lube he slid under the pillow, he threw the covers up over the rumpled sheets and when Willow entered after a pro forma knock, he was lying on the bed watching TV.
“Top of the morning to you my little Willow tree!” Too enthusiastic and hyper. Willow frowned. “Too much coffee,” he added, trying to scale down his twitchiness. He heard the shower start and relaxed a little.
Willow continued to stare. “Xander? Why are you wearing Spike’s T shirt...back to front?”
“Spike’s? This isn’t...oh, so it is. Didn’t sleep well, no I did sleep well. I’m still half asleep. I’m – Willow, did you want something?”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Giles asked if you could go see him later, if you’re not busy. He’s trying to put up some shelves and they keep falling down.”
Xander nodded, trying to keep his eyes on Willow instead of the door Spike had gone through. “Sure. He couldn’t have phoned, though? Since when did you become his messenger?”
Willow said gently, “Your phone is off the hook.”
Xander glanced at it and remembered just how it had got that way. Bent over the table, pushing it out of the way as he collapsed forward with Spike lying on him like fluff on a rug. A blush spread over his face as he turned towards it and he was just getting it under control when Willow drew in her breath sharply. Time slowed as Xander watched Spike come back into the room, a skimpy towel wrapped around his hips, a larger one drying his hair. Willow was too busy gaping to notice Xander’s reaction which was just as well.
Hair all soft and mussed (want to smooth it down and mess it up again). Skin all damp with water drops here and there (want to lick them up, drink from him). Towel clinging, outlining a slowly stiffening cock (want to fall to my knees and pull it loose with my teeth to get at what’s underneath). Xander swallowed and summoned the strength that had kept him alive on the Hellmouth.
“For the love of God, Spike. Put some clothes on. I haven’t eaten yet and you’re making my eyes hurt with all the dazzle. Haven’t vamps heard of fake tan?”
The words were edged with panic and came out sounding so vicious that Willow flinched. “Xander!” she protested. “There’s no need to be so mean.” She turned to Spike and gave him one of her goofy grins; the ones that made her look cuter than anyone had a right to be. “Though he does have a point. You’re awfully...bare.”
Spike’s face softened. “For you, Red, I’ll get dressed.” He flicked his eyes at Xander. “If I could have my gear that is.”
Xander peeled off the shirt and threw it at him in a wadded up ball. Willow glanced between them, worry plain on her face. “This isn’t working is it? I’ll tell Giles he has to have you back, Spike and –”
“No!” Xander smiled weakly as the word came out at twice the volume he’d intended. “No need for that. I’m just a bit cranky with Spike snoring all night. I’ll call Giles; tell him I’ll be over later. Thanks Will.”
Willow nodded and backed away. “I’m late for a Wicca meeting. I’ll...I’ll see you later, Xander.”
She left quickly, the door slamming behind her. Xander dragged his eyes off Spike who was still holding his T shirt, still half naked and walked up the stairs. Bending over he shoved the wedge he’d whittled under the door. His mother had refused to let him lock it and this was his small rebellion against that order. Going back down the stairs to face Spike was the most difficult thing he’d done in a while but he did it anyway. He hated himself for doing it, but he attacked instead of apologising.
“Did you have to embarrass me like that in front of Willow? You couldn’t have stayed in there a minute longer?” Actually, now he said it, he thought he had a point.
Spike shrugged, his eyes empty. “Can’t help it can I? I’m an embarrassment so I embarrass. Or are you going to try and say you’re proud of the fact you spent the night fucking the undead?”
“I’m not saying –”
“Forget it.” Spike began to walk towards Xander, the towel starting to unwrap. Xander watched it fall to the floor and couldn’t help following it. By the time Spike reached him he was on his knees, lips parted.
“Good boy,” Spike murmured. “You know I won’t believe anything you say so you tell me you’re sorry a better way.” He held his cock in his hand and brushed it teasingly against Xander’s lips. Then he turned away and went over to his jeans, lying in a heap beside the bed. “Sorry, mate. Going to take more than that.”
Xander was left in the middle of the room feeling rejected and foolish. The humiliation might have turned to anger but he knew that everything he felt Spike had gone through too. Standing up, he walked over to Spike and reached out a hand to touch his arm. “Spike? I _am_ sorry. I was scared and I panicked.” Irritation flared and he added. “But there was still no need for you to come out! It was bad enough you tried to bite her last month; you didn’t have to flash her too.”
The coldness melted away and Spike pulled Xander to him, kissing him with a possessiveness and hunger that left him trembling. “Want to change your mind about my apology?” Xander asked when Spike pulled back enough to let him speak.
Spike looked as if he was about to agree and then shook his head reluctantly. “Later. Got to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
Spike looked at him incredulously. “There’s the little matter of my memories? Not to mention there’s still a lot you’re not telling me.”
Xander flushed. “Can’t we just forget about that?”
“No, we can’t just forget about it! Do you have any idea how I feel? I’ve got to know what happened. Come nightfall, we’re going to see that demon.”
Xander gaped at him, floundering in confusion. “You want to remember?”
“No reason not to. Not like Dru’s going to pop up again.” He sounded resigned rather than bitter.
“Why do you need me?”
“Just do,” said Spike evasively, drumming his hands against the night table. “And you’d better bring your charm with you.”
Xander glared at him. “You wouldn’t be thinking of making me take it, would you? Because that’s just so not going to happen!”
Spike laughed harshly. “Now that never even crossed my mind.” He looked at Xander. “You’re not going to be allowed to forget me, you understand?”
“Didn’t I just say –?”
Spike was on him in a heartbeat, arms tight around him, teeth digging into his neck, just below the chip’s boundary. “Mine...” he whispered. “I think you need reminding of that before you go off to see your little friends.” Xander felt Spike’s mouth high on his neck, sucking fiercely. He knew exactly what Spike was doing and why and he stood still and let him do it.
Spike broke away, his eyes glazed as he fought to stay in human face. “Get out and go see Giles,” he said. “Be back before sunset. I want this over with.”
Xander dressed in silence and left Spike lying on the bed, his face averted, moodily flicking through the channels on his TV.
Giles greeted him with an awkward smile. “Xander! There was no rush, really. Anytime would have done. You said some time ago that if there were any odd jobs I needed doing – paid of course. I don’t expect you to work for free.”
Xander waved a dismissive hand. “If you just want shelves putting up and you’ve got all the supplies, it’s on me, Giles.”
“Well, we’ll see about that later. I’ve put all the wood and such in the spare room upstairs. I want to shelve an entire wall if that’s possible. Now I no longer have my office at school I find I’m –”
Xander tuned out Giles’ gentle babbling as he followed him upstairs, wondering if he was going to be able to make it through another hour without going back to his room and lying down next to Spike. He flinched as Giles said his name sharply and smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t get much sleep.”
Giles looked at him with concern but said nothing. Xander was shown the lumber and set to work, asking Giles a few questions about the distance apart he wanted the shelves and then getting on with it, trying not to wince as he filled the holes Giles’ earlier attempts had left in the walls.
After a while Giles appeared in the doorway. “Thought you might like a drink,” he said, holding out a can of coke. Xander took it gratefully, popping it open and then turning his head to nod at what he had done. “Going to look good, isn’t it?”
The light fell on his neck and Giles froze, his body still with shock as he saw the mark for what it was, a bite placed there by the vampire he had insisted Xander let into his home. Xander didn’t notice, his mind already back on his work. He set the can down and turned back to the shelves. Two steps and Giles was behind him, his body so close that Xander felt dizzy with the heat he radiated.
“What did he do to you?” Giles said in a voice Xander had never heard him use before, crackling with icy rage. “Answer me!”
Xander tried to reply but Giles’s hands were on him, tearing at his T shirt, ripping it up to expose his back. Xander began to struggle but Giles locked one arm around his neck and forced Xander to turn so that his back was bathed in the sunlight. Xander knew what Giles was looking at, knew whose nails and teeth had written words of love on his back in crimson letters.
A hand rested against the small of his back, warm and gentle. “I will kill him for this,” said Giles softly.
Continued in Chapter Four