Waiting Here
By Alexandria Brown

Chapters 6 - 10



Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10 ~ Bottom

Part Six

He held him. He held him as if his life depended on it. He held him as if he was the only true thing he had ever known. He held him as if the world would end if he let go. He thought it just might. Spike knew that the fragile thread keeping him sane was strung between the sound of a heartbeat and the feel of warm breath on his neck. He also knew that the tremors racking his body came more from fury and fear then from any lingering effects of the seizures that had ripped through him. He was torn between blind rage at what had happened, at the absolute violation of the boy in his arms, at his inability to destroy that which had dared to hurt Xander and pure panic at the thought of what aftermath this would have on the fragile body he cradled. He was still shocked at what Xander had done, giving up his blood to heal the vampire. No one had ever sacrificed so much for him. Hell, no one had ever sacrificed anything for him. His mind stopped cold at the thought that Xander might die from this. He did not think he would survive if Xander did not.

Spike gripped Xander a little closer, trying to will his strength into the still body. He could hear the words echoing in his mind, “Go on, I’ll be waiting here when you get back. Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen while you’re gone.” He could see the slight smile on Xander’s face, the happiness the boy had tried to hide that Spike had trusted him enough to leave. Spike’s eyes closed as a wave of shame washed over him. It was all his fault, he should have known this was going to happen, should have sensed it, smelled it, something, anything, he should have seen this coming. He should have stayed to protect Xander. He knew that he would have gladly died to keep this boy, this pure soul, away from such evil.

Spike knew evil, had tasted it, touched it, bathed it its dark embrace. But there were certain depths which even a vampire would not descend. This was not the same as his Sire claiming rights to his body. No matter how violent, there was still a sense of asserting power, of attempting to draw him back to the family on those occasions. This, this was pure evil. Spike’s hands began to shake as he slowly rubbed them down Xander’s back, attempting to soothe and calm him. That beast was blood of Xander’s blood, the strongest tie of all. And he **no IT** had betrayed that on the basest level. Spike wanted nothing more then to spend days torturing him, bringing to bear all he had ever learned in the art of pain to this sweet task of destruction. Spike knew he could make it last and linger, could push that sick fuck beyond any wall of agony to some higher peak, some last exquisite agony. And, at the end, when the last breath was nigh, Spike wanted to hand Xander the box with the knife, watch him open it and plunge it to its hilt in this monster’s heart. But he couldn’t, not yet, and the pain of that knowledge burned the vampire to his core.

He heard a sudden hitch in the boy’s breath as Xander slowly lifted his head off Spike’s shoulder. Spike stilled, anxiously waiting for Xander’s eyes to open. He didn’t know what to expect, could only hope that the eyes would be clear, that the spark of life he longed to touch would still be there.

Xander slowly opened his eyes. He felt battered, his face throbbing from where he had hit the floor, his ribs, which had only recently stopped aching every time he inhaled, were once again cracked and sore. He could feel the cool arms wrapped around him, soothing the pain. He could not believe how safe he felt here, wrapped in the arms of a vampire. A vampire he had just fed. The slice on his wrist burned, but not in the way his own cuts had. Rather, this felt like a brand, a kind of claiming. He had never felt anything like the pull of Spike’s mouth on his wrist. He could feel the desperation, the need, the pure desire Spike had to draw his essence from him. It was not desire for blood, it was desire for HIM, to become part of him. Xander shuddered. The intimacy of it was greater than anything he had ever known. He looked up, catching Spike’s gaze with his own.

Brown eyes stared into blue, a mixture of fear, pain, worry, need and longing mirrored there. For long moments they stayed like that, lost in each other’s eyes, the relief at finding one another safe crashing over them. Xander slowly raised his hand, tracing a finger down Spike’s face.

“You’re okay, Christ, I was so worried, I wasn’t sure what to do, it looked so bad, like it hurt so much,” the words come flowing out as Xander’s voice began to shake. “I thought that you were going to…” the words trailed off as the visions flicked through his consciousness. He had heard the breaking of Spike’s ribs, the echo of the sick smack of Spike’s skull on the floor still rang in his ears. “I didn’t want you to hurt for me.”

Spike reached up, covering Xander’s hand with his own. “Luv, I’m sorry that this happened, that you were hurt, that you had to do that for me.” Spike’s voice too had a curious waver, a slight crack that hinted at greater pain. Dropping his hand, he carefully wrapped his arms around that warm body, pulling Xander down to lean back on his shoulder. “I promise you this, no one will ever harm you again. No one will ever touch you, you will never hurt, not while I’m here.”

Xander allowed himself to be pulled into the embrace, the fierceness of the words piercing his soul. He nodded into Spike’s shoulder. He wanted to tell Spike he knew, that he believed him, but didn’t trust himself to speak. They stayed there a minute longer, each taking the chance to calm down, to realize the other was safe. With a small sigh, Xander leaned back. He didn’t want to, but the pain was starting to overwhelm him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He let out a shaky breath, trying to gather the strength to stand.

“You all right, pet, do you need something?” Spike could feel the pain radiating from Xander, even as the sharp stench of fear began to fade. Xander just shook his head, clearly trying to gather his bearings. Spike carefully moved away, watching closely to make sure he wasn’t hurting his boy. He pushed himself up the wall, then reached down his hand.

“C’mon, let’s get you some aspirin. And I want to take a look at your nose. I think it’s broken. Might need to get that looked at.” Spike spoke quietly, trying to instill a sense of peace and calm. He knew he would need it. He was determined to get Xander to the hospital this time, no matter how much the whelp protested. That nose was definitely broken and had to hurt like hell. Besides, Spike wanted to make sure the ribs weren’t broken too and he also had to make sure that Xander hadn’t suffered any internal damage. His mind slipped at that thought as the rage he had been suppressing slammed back into him. He unconsciously slipped back into gameface as the full events of the night flashed before his eyes. He began to growl deep in his chest.

Xander’s eyes widened when the growling began. He reached up, taking the proffered hand which pulled him to his feet. He had seen the emotions flick across Spike’s face and instantly knew that Spike had seen everything. Xander had only been half-conscious when Spike had arrived and hadn’t been completely sure as to what Spike knew. There was no doubt now.

“Spike, calm down. Please, calm down. It’s okay,” he flinched back as Spike rounded on him at those words, yellow eyes blazing. “I mean, I don’t mean it’s okay what happened, I mean I’m okay now, it’s over, please calm down. I can’t see you hurt again, please.”

The desperation in Xander’s voice stopped Spike cold. Taking long, harsh breaths, he forced himself to calm down, to step back. He knew that he couldn’t go after that thing lying on the floor again, that he was still too weak. Besides, it was upsetting Xander, and he knew that Xander needed nothing more than calm at the moment. Nodding, he tried to slip back into human guise but was finding it hard to maintain his control. Every time he started to rein it in, some sight or sound would rock him, and the rage would begin to build.

He started when he felt a warm hand trace the ridges on his forehead. Instinctively, he moved closer to Xander, tilting his face up as the soothing caress calmed him. “Please, please, just, please talk to me, okay? Just say something.” Xander’s voice cracked, he was terrified that Spike would collapse again, that he would try to kill his father **and yes, I would love to see that** and that those seizures would rip the vampire apart.

Spike nodded, took one last breath and slipped back into human form. “Sorry, luv, just, can’t bear that pile of shit over there even considering breathing, let alone breathing the same air as you.”

They both turned to look at the still body lying on the floor. It was clear that Xander’s father was still alive, they could see his chest rising and falling as he breathed. A trickle of blood ran from his forehead and trailed across the basement floor. Xander took a few steps forward to stand next to him.

Spike reached up, intent on tearing Xander away. He did not want Xander anywhere near that motherfucker, didn’t want that piece of shit ever laying eyes on him again. His hands dropped, however, as he watched the emotions play across Xander’s face. Fear, pain, rage, disgust, a glimpse of love with caused Spike’s heart to constrict, immediately replaced by disgust, hate and rage. He heard Xander’s heart begin to race, smelled the pure fury which was filling his boy.

Xander glared down at the still form. For the first time, he let himself truly feel the hatred which had burned in him for years. Enough, it was finally enough. His leg drew back and viciously kicked into his father’s ribs. A satisfying thud resounded through the basement. Xander’s mouth curled into a snarl as his leg came back again.

“You bastard, you sick fuck, you piece of shit, how could you do that to me, huh, why, I’m your child, you motherfucker, your flesh and blood, how could you, HOW COULD YOU?” The screams rang out as Xander lashed out in fury, his words punctuated by the sounds of tearing flesh and snapping bones. He kicked and kicked, years of rage pouring out. “How could you, why would you, what did I ever do, what did I ever do,” the words came out in a sob as Xander slowly started to fall. He never reached the ground as Spike’s strong arms caught him and held him tight. Now it was Spike’s turn to mutter soothing words as he held the sobbing boy.

“It’s over, it’s over, never again, never again, shh, I’ve got you,” Spike felt a swell of emotions flood into him. He had savored every sound, every drop of blood that Xander had ripped from that flesh. At the same time he had been terrified, knowing that Xander was still weak from all that he had gone through. He carefully walked them to the couch, wanting to let Xander sit and gather back his strength. Xander’s sobs slowly stopped and Spike pulled back.

“Gods, you’ve got to think I’m just pathetic, crying all the time like that. Go on, say it I’m nothing but a nancy boy,” Xander smiled weakly, embarrassed at losing control like that once again. He felt a firm hand grip his chin, forcing him to look up.

“Not quite, luv. In fact, you may be the strongest human I’ve ever met.” Leaning forward, Spike pressed a cool kiss to his forehead. “Course, you’re also one of the bloodiest, really need to get you cleaned up, or do you just want to wait and let them do it at the hospital.” He hoped that the kiss had distracted Xander enough to blur the reference to the hospital. That wasn’t why he had done it, of course. He needed to, needed to let Xander know that he would never think he was weak, would never look down on him. It was perfectly obvious that this was not the first time Xander had been attacked, and Spike could not begin to imagine the strength of character it took for Xander to not only survive but to be so open to the world.

Xander just stared at him in shock. He shook himself, this was Spike being nice to him, Spike making him feel so wanted. He couldn’t begin to deal with this now, didn’t want to think what this could mean. All he really knew was that no one had ever made him feel so secure. He realized what Spike had just said.

“What do you mean hospital,” a stubborn look crossed Xander’s face. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’ll be fine.”

Spike sighed. He knew this was coming but he was determined to do whatever was needed to get Xander there. If for no other reason than he didn’t want that handsome face marred by a broken nose. Xander’s face was fine just the way it was.

“Be reasonable, pet, that nose is broken and needs to be set, your ribs need to be checked, bet some broke this time. And besides, we need to make sure…” Spike’s voice cracked again. He didn’t want to think about this, couldn’t bear that he could still smell that vileness on Xander. **This is ridiculous, you’re William the Bloody, continents used to cringe at the mention of your name, you can do this.** He started again, his voice quiet and calm. “We need to make sure that nothing else happened, that there’s nothing torn.” He looked down, unable to bear the thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t arrived when he did.

Xander swallowed hard. He knew his nose was broken, that was pretty obvious. He also knew that nothing had ruptured when **buck up little camper, you can face this** when his father had slammed into him. He had intimate knowledge of what that felt like and, besides, there was no blood flowing down his thighs. He had no idea how to tell that to Spike without the vampire completely freaking out. It was one thing for Spike to know. He was fairly certain the vampire could put two and two together and figure out that this was not a new occurrence. It was quite another to reveal just how much he had been hurt in the past.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a problem, it doesn’t hurt as much as when that happens, and there’s, well, er, there’s, there’s no blood.” Xander’s voice trailed off at the last part.

Spike’s head shot up. “What do you mean ‘it doesn’t hurt as much as when that happens’. How the fuck would you know that?” His eyes narrowed and yellow began to flicker around the edges of his eyes. “How would you know? Bloody hell, what did that beast do to you?” He heard the quick intake of breath and felt Xander jerk away from him. The loss of Xander’s touch was like a slap to the face. With a huge effort of will, he pulled his fury back. This was not helping. He slowly reached out a hand, not quite touching Xander’s face, waiting until Xander could look at him, not wanting to scare him.

“It’s okay, luv, you don’t have to answer. You can tell me later if you want. You still need to go to the hospital, though. I can’t set your nose and we don’t want you looking beaten up, now do we.”

Xander shook his head again. There was no way he was going to the hospital. There would be questions, explanations. And besides, Giles was listed as his emergency contact person. He couldn’t begin to think of how to explain this.

“No, it’ll be okay. Besides, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” The glazing of his eyes proved that wrong. He kept seeing black spots and was beginning to have difficulty sitting upright. “I’ll be fine.”

“Bullshit, you can’t even sit up straight. You’re going, even if I have to carry you. Now get up.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not going.”

“Fine, I warned you.” Spike quickly stood and scooped Xander into his arms, moving for the door. Xander’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Put me down.”

“No, bloody hell, where’s my duster, need the bloody keys. Be a dear and pick it up would you.”

“I said, put me down.” Xander began to struggle and Spike tightened his grip. A wave of pain ripped through him, dropping him to his knees.

“Bloody hell, not trying to hurt him, stop it, stop it, those bastards, I’m going to rip their balls off and feed ‘em to them,” Spike managed to hiss out between waves of agony. Xander had wrenched out of his arms and crouched next to him. Spike rocked back and forth as the pain hit again. **Not fair, trying to help, would never hurt him, never hurt, not right.** He felt warm arms reach out for him this time.

“Spike,” a small voice in his ear. “God, I’m sorry, I’ll go, you didn’t hurt me, I don’t know what made it go off. I’ll go, really, I just didn’t want anyone to know what happened, that’s all, please be okay, I’m sorry.”

Spike looked up as the pain faded. That was all, Xander just didn’t want anyone to know? That was easily taken care of. Spike stood up, leaning against the wall for a second. For the first time since he had come back to the basement, the faint hint of a smirk crossed his face.

“That’s the only reason you didn’t want to go, didn’t want to tell them what happened. Why didn’t you say so, that’s easily fixed. Just lie.” Hell, these humans and their need to be so literal. Bloody ridiculous notions of truth which just got in the way.

Xander’s jaw dropped. **Just lie, well, Jesus, that’s too simple isn’t it.** “Lie, and say what exactly, I fell down? Isn’t telling bald face untruths your department anyway?” Xander began to smile a little too. Lie. Well, why not. Technically, he HAD been beaten up. No need to mention the rest.

“Yes, lie. How about this, you stopped at the store and got jumped on the way back to your car, some wankers who wanted your wallet.” Yes, that would do. “They knocked you down, kicked you a little, smacked you in the face and took off when you began to scream like a little girl.” The smirk on Spike’s face widened. Yes, this would work. People always underestimated his Xander, and he was sure that no one would question it too much, not in the busy ER of Sunnydale General.

“Screamed like a little girl, gee, thanks for the support,” Xander grinned back, though. This could work. His smile faded a little. “Spike, what about the stitches? Won’t they want to know how I got those?”

Spike just waved a hand. “Fell on glass a few weeks ago, hate to say this, ducks, but you do come across as a bit accident prone.”

“What about the cut on my wrist,” Spike caught Xander’s eyes as the soft words. Reaching out, he carefully grasped Xander’s right arm, turning the palm up so he could trace the wound. He could still feel the purity of the blood in his veins. This, this he didn’t want to lie about, didn’t want to deny what had happened. On the other hand, it was no one’s business but theirs.

“One of them had a knife, went for your face, you put an arm up to block it.” Xander heard the quiet response as Spike continued to trace his finger lightly over the cut. Xander just nodded.

“Only one more problem, Giles is my person to call in case of emergency. You know the whole gang will show up. What will we tell them about you?”

Spike yanked his eyes away from staring at the cut. **We, he said we.**

“You want me to stay with you, then?” Spike heard the note of hope in his voice. **Bloody hell mate, acting like a schoolgirl here.**

Xander just stared back, what, Spike thought he wanted him to go. “Of course I want you there,” a smile curled back on his lips. “Gotta have someone to support this load of shit.”

“Right, then,” Spike nodded sharply, hoping Xander couldn’t see the relief on his face. “Let’s get going, want to be back before dawn and it’s late.” Both heads turned to look at the alarm clock. 11:23. They looked back at each other, shocked. It felt like days had passed.

“Spike, what are we going to do with, with,” Xander stopped, not sure of what to say.

“Set him on fire.” The answer was immediate and it was clear that the vampire wasn’t joking.

“No, the house would go up too, he’s got so much alcohol in him, he would go up like a torch.” An evil grin crossed Xander’s face. “I know, let’s drag him outside and leave him in the yard. Something is bound to eat him while we’re gone.”

Spike nodded in pride. “Always knew you had an evil streak; which end do you want? If you take his head you could always gouge his eyes out,” he added helpfully. This was more like it.

“No, let me drag him by his feet, that way his head will hit on the stairs.” The look on Xander’s face would have done any vampire proud.

“Be my guest.”

Spike sat down on the couch and watched as Xander walked over, stopping to get one last kick in, before he reached down and grabbed this bastard’s ankles. Xander made sure to slam into every possible obstacle on his way out the door, and Spike followed him up the stairs, luxuriating in every crack of the head on the concrete of the steps. Xander finally dropped him in the yard, a look of pure hate on his face.

“Ready, luv?” Spike was dying to get Xander to the hospital, knowing that he had to be close to collapse.

“No, I want to shower first. That way in case they want to do any kind of further exam,” Xander’s voice trailed off.

“Anything you want, pet,” Spike battled back his impatience. He understood Xander’s reluctance to let anyone else know, as much as he wanted to rub it into the faces of those supposed friends of his.

They returned to the basement and Xander headed to the shower. He really felt the need to wash, to remove the stench from his body. He knew he was delaying the trip, delaying seeing his friends, hearing their concern over something that wasn’t real. He also didn’t know how they would react to Spike’s presence. He stepped under the spray, gingerly cleaning himself. **If Buffy starts up on Spike…** Xander stopped his thoughts there.

Spike took the time to quickly look around. Amazingly enough, the apartment wasn’t that destroyed. There was a fairly large patch of blood on the floor which he quickly covered with a blanket. A lamp had been knocked over which he set back upright. Other than that, there was nothing to show what had happened. He sighed. Nothing other than the stench which lingered in the air. He walked back and opened the door, letting the cool night air wash into the room. He knew the Slayer would insist on bringing Xander home, and he didn’t want any evidence to remain. He already had his story planned, and he had decided that he would just follow them back and wait for them to leave. There was no way he was letting Xander out of his sight for a second longer than necessary. He heard the water stop and a few minutes later Xander came out. Luckily, it was still raining, so his wet hair would be explained. Xander quickly changed and walked over to Spike.

“Ok,” he took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

Spike simply draped his arm over Xander’s shoulders and led him into the night.

Part Seven

The best place to start was at the center of the ankle on the inside of the right foot. The key was to use just the tip of the knife, to make a thin, clean line which drew enough blood to hurt but not enough so that it would continue to bleed throughout the day. Just deep enough to hurt with every step, with every rub of fabric over the rawness. The slower the better, drawing the exquisite pain out as long as possible. Once the initial cut was made, then to drag along the top of the foot, tracing just inside the outline of the shoe, again causing the reminder of the pain, the almost but not quite good enough, echo throughout the day. Slowly, slowly, taking as much time as possible, dragging it out. Fast was fine sometimes, when time was short, or someone could walk in, or the pain was just too much. But it was better when it was slow. Finally tracing around the back of the leg, closing the circle, a ring of fire to make it through the day.

Or maybe the inner thigh. That was always good, almost no one saw that. That was best for short, parallel strokes, perfectly matched streaks that were purely private.

Or to turn the flat of the knife along his sides, not cutting really, more like scratching the surface of the skin, rubbing it raw. That way when he stretched he could feel it.

Maybe the back of the knee, three long vertical slices on each leg. There was no way to do anything without ripping the wounds back open. The faint trickle would wind its way down his leg, leaving traces on his skin.

He couldn’t decide, couldn’t pick which would be best. There was only one thing of which he was sure. Not his wrists again, never his wrists again. To do so would destroy the perfection of the last time he had opened a vein in that way.

Xander closed his eyes tighter, trying to picture each cut in his mind, to draw forth the memory of steel, the sharpness of glass, the harsh scrape of metal, the rough edges of his fingernails. He wanted it, wanted it so badly he could taste it, could taste his blood in his mouth. He jerked his head up slightly when he realized that he could actually taste blood in his mouth, that he was compulsively chewing through his lower lip. He opened his eyes, seeking for something to focus on, to block out the pain, the need ripping through his veins. Eyes darting frantically, everything he saw only heightened his grief.

Finally, his eyes came to rest on a black leather duster that had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor. He stared at it, focusing on the small creases and rips he could see. He poured everything he had into memorizing every part of it visible to him, wanting to be able to draw this picture into his mind to block out everything else that wanted to rise, unbidden, before his eyes. He could almost smell the scent of the cigarettes mingling with the leather. He certainly could smell them in the hair of the vampire who was wrapped protectively around him.

Xander had never expected to fall asleep. Usually the nights after his father attacked him, he would toss and turn, pain of body and soul too much to allow any rest. But last night he had dropped off as soon as his head hit his pillow. He knew full well that it wasn’t the pain medication which had caused him to drop off. It was the feel of Spike reaching with strong arms to pull him close to that hard body, the way they had just seemed to naturally fit together. He hadn’t known what to expect when he had asked Spike to hold him, but Spike’s immediate and unflinching drawing of Xander to Spike’s chest had not been it. There was no hesitation, no snort, no comment, no quirk of an eyebrow. Just a murmured question, a check to make sure the vampire wasn’t hurting Xander.

It was that question, that show of concern that was pinning Xander to the bed when all he wanted to do was walk over to the sink, pick up one of the knives lying there and begin carving his flesh. The need burned through him, every second he was lying still torturing him. He wanted that release, craved it, anything to take away the sounds and images which ripped into him. If he could not take it away, block out the images somehow, then he would be forced to face them. Forced to hear the sound of the door at the top of the stairs being kicked open. Forced to see the blur of his father’s hand in the corner of his eye as he was yanked from the couch by the back of his neck. Forced to hear the sickening crunch as his nose shattered when his face hit the floor. Forced to feel the blows to his ribs. Forced to smell the alcohol drenching the man straddling his back. Forced to experience that pain again as his father pounded into him. No, it was too much. He had to have some release. His hands began to rhythmically clench the sheets next to him, his palms literally aching for the weight of something, anything he could use to burn the memories from his mind.

But he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He would not hurt Spike like that. He didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t begin to imagine when the two of them had crossed some invisible line between enemies to friends. He had no idea at what point they had moved to something beyond that. All he knew was that Spike understood him and that he understood Spike. Not completely, but understood nonetheless. All he knew was that Spike cared what happened to him, that Spike didn’t judge him, that Spike didn’t think any less of him even after seeing what had happened. He knew the rest of the gang cared too, it was just they didn’t know. So, no matter how hard it was, he was going to stay here and not reach for the only solace he knew. He began to tremble slightly as the pain from his injuries washed over him. His whole body ached, his face throbbed, breathing was an exercise in agony. But the bottle containing the Darvocet was on the sink, right next to the knives. He couldn’t go over there without reaching for a knife. He would take this pain instead. He trembled a little more violently, unconsciously tightening his grasp on the arm around his waist.

Spike’s eyes shot open. The scent of agony hit him sharply, rising in waves from the body pressing into his. The sudden grip on his arm had pulled him from sleep, yanked him from some of the most peaceful sleep he had experienced in decades. It was the soft beating of Xander’s heart that lulled him, the sound sinking into his bones. He had covered Xander in the night, trying to draw that peace into himself. Now Xander was lying in his arms, shaking and in pain. Spike carefully slid his arm from beneath the boy’s body then he began stroking Xander’s hair.

“Xander, pet, what is it?” He lifted his head up, shocked to see the tension tightening Xander’s features. “Luv, what’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” came the stuttering reply as Xander kept his eyes tightly closed.

Spike glanced over at the clock. 2:34. They had been asleep for nearly ten hours. Spike hissed. He had carefully read the directions for Xander’s pain medication and knew that he was allowed one pill every four hours. Two. He had missed two.

He pulled Xander up with him as he sat up, taking care not to jostle Xander’s ribs. He noticed that Xander’s eyes were still shut. “Well, the medicine’s right on the sink, I’ll just get you some. Have you been up long?”

“About an hour“

Spike hissed, how could he have slept while his boy was in such pain. Cursing himself, he reached out to run press a cold hand against the black eyes which Xander was now sporting, hoping that would ease the pain.

“Why didn’t you go get some earlier, you can have one every four hours you know.” He felt the shaking continue.

“Couldn’t, couldn’t go over there,” the reply whispered almost inaudibly.

“Why not, can you walk, hell, why didn’t you wake me,” Spike carefully leaned Xander back, propping a pillow behind his back. He went to the sink then shook out the medicine, grabbed a glass, filled it with water and hurried back. Handing the glass and pill over, he watched as Xander gulped it down, nodding gratefully.

“Next time, you wake me,” Spike could hear the note of command in his voice and saw Xander’s head flinch back. He softened his tone. “If you hurt too much to walk, then I’ll just go get it, do you hear me?”

“It wasn’t that, I just couldn’t go over there.” Xander opened his eyes but kept his gaze locked on his hands. “I, I keep my cooking stuff there and there’s a knife right out next to the bottle.” Xander heard his voice fade down, took a deep breath and forced himself to look at Spike who was standing frozen next to the bed. “If I go over there then I’ll use that knife and I can’t, I won’t.” Xander’s voice began to drop again. “I promised you I wouldn’t and right now that’s all I want.”

Spike’s mouth opened slightly as he heard the words. It took everything in him not to reach down and crush Xander to him. He realized that he had expected to wake to find himself alone with the fresh scent of Xander’s blood in the air. He wouldn’t have blamed the boy, he could barely deal with what had occurred and it hadn’t happened to him.

Xander continued to look up at Spike, trying to see what reaction his confession would provoke. He didn’t want to anger Spike, but he also had to tell the truth. He saw Spike’s mouth open, then suddenly snap shut as Spike nodded once, as if he had made a decision. Turning on his heel, he walked over to the duster, kneeling down and reaching into one of the deep pockets. He saw Spike straighten, stare down at something in his hand. By the perfect line of Spike’s back he could tell the vampire was upset by something. Whatever it was, Spike turned back and returned to his position by the bed. Spike simply stared at him for a minute then settled next to Xander. Reaching out, Spike took Xander’s right hand and turned it over. Looking straight into Xander’s eyes, Spike let whatever he had been holding drop from his hand to Xander’s.

Xander looked down as a small weight fell into his palm. It was a key. It was the key to the lockbox. Startled, he looked back up to see that Spike was staring levelly back at him.

“Go ahead, if it will make you better. I’ll clean you up when you’re done.”

Xander just stared at the vampire. He could clearly see the pain in Spike’s eyes, but also understanding. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The trust this displayed was beyond anything Xander could have imagined. He began to shake his head. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t cause any more pain. He was tired of hiding, tired of turning inward for release. Now, for the first time since he could remember, there was someone else he could tell, someone who would listen, someone who knew. No matter how much he wanted it, he wasn’t going to go back to the loneliness of the blade.

“No. I won’t.”

Spike was shocked by the words. He could smell the bloodlust coming from Xander, could see how desperately he needed to escape the pain. Even though it cut him to the quick to do this, he wanted Xander to know that whatever he needed, Spike would get. Even if it was this.

“Xander, you know I don’t want you to,” Spike stopped. Anything, whatever he needed. Spike started again. “If you need to, well, then I’ll be here to make sure you don’t go too far.” The image of Xander lying drenched in blood on the bathroom floor shimmered before his eyes.

“No.” The answer was stronger this time. “No, that’s not the answer. Remember you said you would find me something else to do.” Spike nodded, confused. Xander closed his eyes and took a deep breath and continued. “Well, let’s try this. I’ll stop pretending it didn’t happen as long as you tell me one way you’re going to kill him at breakfast each morning.”

A matching, vicious smile curled over both their lips as they locked eyes again. Spike nodded. “Think I can manage that, pet.” Xander just nodded back.

Xander slowly stood, feeling some of the tension begin to drain from the room. He moved to the bathroom, craving a nice, long, hot shower to work out some of the kinks. He saw that Spike had followed behind him. Xander turned and poked the vampire in the chest.

“Hey, not going to share everything with you. Gonna get cleaned up so I can start trying to find a place.” He was looking forward to it. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to afford much, his current construction job was going to end in a few months, but anything had to be better than this. He had been always been terrified to move out before, afraid of what might happen if he was alone with his thoughts. But he wouldn’t be alone now. Besides, he no longer had any illusions about his chance of survival if he remained in the basement. Either his father would kill him or he would kill himself, intentionally or not. He shut the bathroom door, slowly stripping down and beginning the tedious process of removing his bandages.

Spike grabbed his cigarettes the second the bathroom door closed. Frowning, he realized that at some point over the last two weeks he had begun to smoke only when the boy wasn’t present. He moved over to the refrigerator and took out a bag of blood, heating it quickly. He drank slowly, turning the events of the last day over in his mind. Somehow, somewhere, he and Xander had developed a bond. He knew Xander felt it as well. He had no illusions. He was falling for the boy, falling fast and falling hard. The boy **no man** had hidden depths, more courage than any being that Spike had ever met and the purity of his soul was a beacon in the darkness of Spike’s universe. He wanted to pull it into himself. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still faintly taste Xander in his mouth. Spike was fairly certain that was the moment that had inexorably linked them. There was always a bond created when a vampire drank but it was usually extinguished when the life drained from the victim or when the person was turned. But this was different. Spike hadn’t taken from Xander but had only received what was freely offered, what had practically been forced on him. The taste of Xander’s blood had given him a glimpse of heaven, a split second’s chance to stand again in the sun.

Xander carefully dried himself off, taking care not to look too closely in the mirror. His face was a mess, the bandaging holding his nose in place not quite managing to cover the two **well, no reason to go half way** black eyes. **Oh yeah, I would rent to me.** He dressed quickly and came out to find Spike staring vacantly into space, smoke trailing from his hand.

“Well, do I look like an upstanding, reliable citizen,” Xander called over.

Spike looked up, unable to help the smirk at the picture Xander presented. “Actually, you look like you got caught out with another lass and your woman threw you out on your sorry arse. After braining you with a lamp of course.”

“Ah, good, my clever disguise has worked.” Xander managed a grin back. That was actually a pretty good story. Explained the nose, explained the rush. Shaking his head ruefully, he realized that the vampire was proving to be a bad influence.

He walked over, grabbing his wallet and car keys from the kitchen counter, his eyes briefly lingering over the knife he belatedly realized Spike had purposefully placed there. Swallowing, he caught Spike’s eyes. “Well, I’m off. Not promising anything this palatial, but somewhere else.” He saw Spike open his mouth to speak. “And if we can’t move in tonight, then I promise we can grab a hotel somewhere. I don’t want to stay here either.” He saw Spike nod once. Good, he had guessed right. “Don’t forget your end of the deal. No attempts at parent slaughter.” He saw the flicker of gold in Spike’s eyes, but he ignored it. “Right, off then, I’ll be back before the sun goes down.”

Spike followed Xander to the door, reluctant to let Xander leave his sight, even though he knew there was no way to follow. They stood in the doorway for a second, then Xander pulled the door open as little as possible, trying to keep the sun out. Turning, he suddenly ran the back of his hand down Spike’s cheek.

“Promise to be here when I get back?”

“Yes. Promise to come back?”

“Yes.” With that he walked out the door.

Part Eight

“And only then will I shove his balls down his throat. After all, wouldn’t want to cut the screams off early, now, would we,” Spike was practically bouncing up and down as he finished his description. He wouldn’t be happy until the bastard was dead, but at least in the meantime he could content himself with crafting a daily horror show. He tried to maintain eye contact with Xander the entire time, drinking in the rage in his boy’s eyes, the unconscious manner in which he would lick his lips, as if he could taste the blood, the way the heat slowly infused Xander’s face, adding a ruddy glow. It was beautiful.

Xander stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth, the milk dripping back into the bowl. He wasn’t sure what he had expected when he had asked Spike to start each day with a description of his father’s death, but he had never anticipated his own response. He had hung on every word, clearly seeing it in his mind’s eye, feeling the longing burning through his body. He had tried, just for a second, to feel some remorse at his reaction but just couldn’t do it. Not when he still hurt all over.

“Hmm, that was,” he had no words to describe what that was. He started over. “That was very graphic. Only one question, can I pour the burning oil in his eyes?”

Spike thought the grin would split his face in two. “Sure, pet, but, trust me, it’s more fun to use the pliers. The oil reeks, gets all over your clothes.”

“’S okay, I’m used to weird smells. You do remember that we live on a Hellmouth? And that I fought that stench demon?” Xander grinned back, taking a moment out of inhaling his cereal. He was starved, he felt like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Glancing over, he let out a groan.

“Well, gotta go to work. This should be fun.” His eyes were almost swollen shut and his nose wheezed with every breath. His ribs were better, but still protested every time he turned too fast.

“You can’t be serious,” Spike stared back, appalled. There was no way that Xander could go to work. He worked at some type of construction job and Spike had watched as it took Xander ten minutes just to put his shirt on. “There is absolutely no way that you can work today.” Spike stalked around the island counter they were leaning on, moving to block Xander’s path to the door.

“Have to go, someone has to pay the rent,” came the reply. “I already called off a few weeks ago, don’t want them to think I’m unreliable. Besides, we’re doing interior trim work right now and it’s not that strenuous.” Xander turned and poured what was left of the milk down the sink, feeling the stare burning into the back of his head.

“And what are you going to say when they asked what happened to you?”

“Auto accident,” Xander grinned. “Hey, this lying thing, this is kind of fun. Think that I’m going to have to start taking notes when you do it.” He turned back, reaching for his jacket and keys. He really didn’t want to go to work but he meant what he said. He didn’t want to be considered a problem. He had finally found a job he was good at and that he enjoyed. So he was going to work, even though he just wanted to crawl back into bed.

“About rent, mate, meant to talk to you about that.” Spike began to spin his lighter round and round, careful to keep his gaze down. “Don’t want you to think that I’m not pulling my weight around here, so I’ll just be chipping in my share.”

Xander looked over, shocked. This was completely unexpected. He hadn’t even thought about that when he was looking at places, he was just grateful that Spike had agreed to come with him. Besides, he couldn’t picture Spike paying for anything, chipped or not.

“Spike, that’s, you don’t have to do that. Besides, I mean, that’s not why I wanted you to move in with me.” He stopped for a second then looked over to see Spike still completely absorbed with the lighter. “And well, not to put too fine a point on it, it’s not like you can just go get a job. And I don’t want you stealing anything, so, just, don’t worry about it.”

Spike looked up at that. “What, did you think I was going to steal? Bloody hell, luv, I have money.”

“Yeah, the money you got from Buffy and Giles, I know. But I don’t want you relying on them either, so…” He stopped as heard Spike start to chuckle.

“Not that pittance. Christ, did you lot really believe that I spent all the last century just wandering about, looking for a meal? I mean, give me some credit. I stored away my share, pretty well off actually.”

Xander felt his mouth fall open and quickly snapped it shut. **Gods, he just is one surprise after another!**

“Well, if you have money, then why did you take it from Giles and Buffy?” Xander was growing more confused by the second. He was starting to find that to be his usual state when talking to Spike.

“Bit of fun that, having a Slayer and a Watcher paying me, the Slayer of Slayers. Too good to pass up.” A grin at the thought. It had been quite amusing, playing the little marionette, seeing they actually believed he was broke. “For hell’s sake, I’m Angelus’s childe and that wanker could squeeze blood from a nickel. And believe you me, better to listen to him go on and on about interest and dividends and diversification and all sorts of mindnumbing shit than to sit and watch him brood. Picked it up after awhile.”

Spike thought back to the quiet call he had made a few days before while Xander was at work. He actually was a bit more than well off. He wasn’t kidding about Angelus, he might be a soul-having, brooding git, but he understood money. Besides, the magic of compound interest worked wonders when you were immortal. He still had accounts in England that he had established back in the early 1900’s. Just one of them was enough to keep he and Xander in comfort for the next twenty years or so. He had made some arrangements, liquidated some funds, planning on finally moving out of the crypt and into somewhere nicer. It had taken all his restraint not to simply tell Xander that he would take care of finding them a place and then packing Xander off to the best hotel he could find, arranging for the constant attention that Xander deserved. He hadn’t, though, knowing that Xander didn’t need to be pampered, no matter how much Spike may want to. He knew that Xander needed to feel independent, needed to be in control, needed to stand on his own. So Spike had let Xander find them a place, let Xander make that choice. And the whelp had done a good job. He really did like it here. Would like it more when they had some more furniture, a bigger television, a new stereo.

Xander just continued to stare at Spike. Every time he thought he knew something about the vampire, something would happen which turned that assumption on its head.

“Well, then why did you live in the crypt. I mean, I would’ve found a nice place or something,” Xander’s voice trailed off.

“Well, didn’t really want to broadcast it. Besides, had to do everything I could to make people think I was still the Big Bad. Image counts you know. Live in a cushy joint, people think you’re cushy. Live in a dank, dingy crypt, why that’s a man.” Spike smirked back. “Worked on the lot of you now didn’t it?”

Xander just shook his head. “Fine, if it will make you feel better, then we’ll split the rent.” That really would help and Spike seemed sincere. Looking back at the clock he let out another groan. “Okay, now I’m going to be late. See you around 7:00 probably.”

Spike trailed Xander out the door of the apartment and into the small hallway leading to the elevator. He lifted up the gate, knowing Xander was still incredibly sore, no matter what front he put up. “Right, I’ll be here.” Xander nodded his goodbye and stepped into the elevator. Spike stood in the hall until he heard the sound of Xander’s car leaving. Sighing, he turned walked back to the apartment. He walked back into the bedroom and tumbled into bed, not that he was tired, but because it smelled like his Xander.

Part Nine

The fire burned through him, stripping away all else. Through all his years, all the time he had wandered the globe, all the places he had been, all the flesh he had touched, nothing had ever burned him like this. It was like tasting the sun, like jumping into an ocean of lava. The purity raced through his veins, washing all aside, everything but the feel of the warm body in his arms, the taste of hope and truth in his mouth, the scent of love and desire that surrounded them both. Spike buried his hands in Xander’s hair, locking their mouths even tighter together. He trailed his tongue along Xander’s lower lip, pressing down slightly to request entrance. He wanted Xander. He needed Xander. He would do nothing that Xander did not request, he would never take, only ask. Even now, as every fiber in his body screamed to take the boy, to finally know the feel of that hot, hot skin against his, another part held back. No. The small part of his mind that still retained some control was holding him back. He couldn’t believe that Xander could kiss him back, that Xander could run his hands roughly down his back, that Xander could open his mouth and seek out his tongue in return. Not after everything that had happened. Spike was awed at the strength it showed. No matter how much he wanted to plunge into Xander, to become one, he would wait. He had to wait. He would never hurt his love.

Xander groaned into Spike’s mouth. So cold, so right. Everything he had dreamed and better, so much better. This was right. His eyes were tightly closed, concentrating everything he had on this kiss, on the feel of Spike’s tongue finally dancing with his, twining round and round. He tried to pull Spike even closer, though their bodies were already flush against one another. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t be close enough. He wanted Spike, he wanted to be part of him, to join together, to be one. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, gasping for air, a faint part of him damning the fate that made him need to breathe. Panting, he lowered his head back to Spike’s shoulder, feeling the dampness from his tears. His hands greedily roamed over Spike’s back as he began to kiss his way up Spike’s neck, reveling in the sounds it provoked, the little whimpers and moans, the husky sound of Spike crying out his name. “Xan,” breathed on a sigh, “Oh, hell, there, right there, Xan.” He began to tug at Spike’s shirt, the need to feel the skin against his overpowering.

Spike could feel his eyes roll back in his head as he felt the warm path of Xander’s mouth along his jawline. Every time he thought it was impossible for him to grow harder, Xander did something new with his tongue that took him to greater heights. **Bloody hell, where did the whelp learn how to do THAT?** “Yes, that, there, again, Xan. Bloody hell.” **Bloody hell, so good, don’t stop!** He felt one hand begin to tug his shirt out of his jeans as the other moved to the neck line, pulling it away from his throat. Xander’s mouth greedily moved along the stark line of his collarbone, pausing in the hollow. Xander began to lick long, slow paths back and forth, back and forth, in a firm, suggestive rhythm. Spike thrust his hips up in ecstasy. Finally, pulling himself together, he ran his hands up Xander’s sides and wrapped a hand around each shoulder, gently tearing Xander away. He heard the protesting whimper but held firm. He had to stop them now. Another minute and he would be too far gone. He didn’t want to stop, he wanted to lavish attention on the body of his love, wanted to bring Xander to the pinnacle of delight over and over, wanted to worship Xander the way he should be. But he had to stop them. He had to know this is what Xander wanted. It had to be Xander’s choice.

“Luv,” Spike swallowed hard, trying to collect himself. **Love. Say it. Love.** “Luv,” he started again. He looked straight into Xander’s eyes and was stunned by what he saw there. Desire, desire for him. Desire, longing and love. Spike felt an almost overpowering urge to crush his mouth back down, but he held firm. This needed to be said and needed to be said now. “Please, are you sure? Do you want this?” He saw the sudden cloud over those beautiful eyes, felt Xander begin to draw back slightly. He just gripped harder, pulling Xander back. “I need to know, do you truly want this? We don’t have to do anything more, we can do whatever you want, we will do only what you want. I just,” Spike’s eyes dropped down for just a moment, gathering strength. He took in a purposeful breath and then slowly let it out. **Here goes nothing.** “I just need you to know that you don’t have to do anything for me. I need you to know that I would never hurt you, never make you do something you don’t want,” his voice cracked now as the image of Xander’s father loomed over him. “I would never,” he felt the tears well up, choking him. **Damn it, stop it you nancy boy. This is not helping!** “I would never hurt you. I will never hurt you.”

Xander felt his heart stop for a moment at those words, could actually smell the truth radiating from Spike’s body. **Is this what it’s like for him, to know everything with all his senses?** His hands had moved to Spike’s waist when Spike had leaned him back and his fingers were trailing along the firm edge there, longing to move over that hard stomach, over the perfect ripples along Spike’s abdomen. But, at Spike’s words, he reached up and placed a hand on each side of Spike’s face, forcing the vampire to look into his eyes. He understood why Spike hesitated and it nearly broke his heart. If he had any doubt about Spike’s true feelings before, they were gone now. He held William the Bloody in his arms, the legendary Spike, the Slayer of Slayers. A Master. A vampire who lorded over others, who roamed wherever he wanted, taking whatever he wanted. A powerful lord, whose very name invoked fear and respect. And he was stopping Xander when it was obvious that he wanted nothing more than to continue. He was stopping to ask permission, no, not even that. He had asked for nothing other than assurances that this was what Xander wanted, letting him know that Xander was in control, that the decision was entirely his. Xander drew in a shaky breath. Yes, there was a part of him that was nervous, somewhat from the memories of what his father had done, but more because he had never made love to a man before and he could only imagine how much experience Spike had. But the rest of him had never been so sure of anything in his life. He wanted this. He had finally found his home, found the place where he was whole and true.

“Spike, listen to me. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I wanted you before I could admit to myself that I did. It’s been all I could do for the last few weeks not to just turn over in bed at night and throw myself at you.” Xander saw the wonderment in Spike’s eyes, the relief and joy but there was still some hesitation. Again, his heart twisted as he realized the only reason why Spike would still hold back. There was only one thing he could think to say to make Spike sure, to make him realize Xander was telling the truth. Xander took in a deep breath and then continued. He knew there would be no going back from this, and the thrill of it was almost more than he could bear. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Spike’s lips. Pulling back, he caught Spike’s eyes again.

“Please, Spike. Make love to me. Show me what to do. Teach me how to please you. I want you, I need you, I’ve never needed anything more. Please.” Leaning back into Spike, he caught the vampire’s mouth in a frantic kiss, plunging his tongue past those cool, cool lips, praying Spike could taste the desire and truth. He let up slightly, leaving his lips pressed against Spike’s. “Please.”

Spike groaned and grabbed Xander by the back of his head, devouring that mouth. He hadn’t been prepared for that response, for the open look of lust and the pure taste of desire. They attached one another, mouths desperately roaming over whatever part they could touch. Spike sank back on the couch, pulling Xander on top of him, draping that heavy, beautiful weight over him. Xander’s hair fell forward, caressing his cheek as Xander moved back down his throat. He could feel Xander’s hardness pressed into his leg, the heat of it calling to him. Then all thoughts stopped as he felt Xander’s hands go under his shirt, moving up his sides as Xander returned to his mouth. The kiss was slower this time, deeper, longer, still desperate but in a different way. This time the desire was for knowledge, the passion was to learn the taste of one another, to memorize it for later.

Slowly they drew apart as Xander’s need to breathe interrupted again. Spike took the opportunity to trace a line down Xander’s throat, heart constricting when he saw Xander lean his head back, heard the gasps of pleasure his actions provoked. The trust was instinctive, there was not even the faintest scent of fear. Spike moved his hands under Xander’s shirt, finally caressing that strong back, daring to trace the lines that he had memorized as they lay together in bed. Spike suddenly realized that they were writhing against each other, hips moving together, unconsciously rocking back and forth.

Xander suddenly pulled them both upright, shocking Spike with his strength.

“Okay, time out.”

“What is it, pet?” came the immediate, concerned reply. “Too much, bloody hell, I’m sorry, why didn’t you say something?” The hands which had continued to stroke Xander’s back slowed, then pulled away. “What do you want?”

Xander smiled at that. “You, of course. That’s pretty obvious.” He was so hard it hurt. “It’s just that you haven’t actually answered me. How about it, Spike? Make love to me?” He wasn’t sure why but he needed to hear it. He could feel Spike’s erection pressing into him, he knew full well that Spike wanted this too. It was just that he couldn’t believe that anyone who knew about what his father had done could truly want him, not really believe it. He needed to hear the words.

“Xander,” Spike traced a finger down his face. “Luv, I truly want nothing more. Just, are you sure?”

Xander felt a sudden rush of desire. It was true, Spike wanted him, wanted him as much as he wanted Spike. “Oh, hell, yes, I’m sure.” The response was growled out.

“C’mon then, let’s take this to bed. Want to do this right and if we don’t go now, don’t think I’ll be able to walk.” Spike hoped the joke would cover the sudden nervousness he felt. It wasn’t so much that he was concerned about his performance, hell, he had been having sex before his soon to be lover’s great-great-grandparents were born. And he had learned from some of the greatest lovers in the world. It was just that he wanted this to be perfect, wanted to erase whatever images that bastard had left in Xander’s head.

“Yeah, that would be good idea.” At that they slowly untangled themselves and stood up, both wincing slightly. Reaching out, Spike gently took Xander’s hand and led him into their bedroom.

Xander could feel the nervousness rise in him, could feel the increase of his heartbeat. He wasn’t afraid, just a little concerned that it would hurt. He was more worried about pleasing Spike. What did he know about pleasing another man? He knew what he liked, but that was about it. **Stop it, stop it, this is what you want. It’ll be okay.**

Entering the bedroom, Spike pulled Xander close and began kissing him again, slowly, carefully. He could feel the tenseness in the body next to him. He knew that Xander was nervous, whether from the memories or from some other reason. He thought he knew what it was. He was practically certain that Xander had never been with a man before and Spike still remembered how he had felt, even as a vampire, the first time he had been with Angelus. Insecure, unsure, intimidated. He trailed tiny kisses up to Xander’s ear.

“Relax, luv, this is for you. All for you. I don’t want you to think about me, to do anything for me. This is your night. All for you.” Spike purred deep in his chest, thinking of what he would do to this beautiful man in his arms, all the ways he had to make him beg for more. He kissed the soft spot behind Xander’s ear, then slowly moved them to the edge of the bed, drawing Xander down next to him.

Xander shuddered at the gentle touch of Spike’s lips, calming under the hypnotizing sound of Spike’s voice. He relaxed, letting the sensations wash over him. He felt himself being pushed backwards so that he was lying on the bed, Spike hovering over him.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I want to please you, to make you feel good. That’s all I want,” Spike’s voice low in his ear as he was gently pulled up so that he was lying completely on the bed, a pillow suddenly appearing under his head. Xander nodded, his eyes still closed, unaware that his lips were slightly parted and a look of bliss was on his face.

Spike resumed his slow exploration of Xander’s mouth, pressing closely into Xander’s side. He trailed his hand slowly across Xander’s chest while Xander’s hands traced down his sides. He felt a questing hand trace across his waist, felt Xander tug at his shirt again. Never letting up from his attention to Xander’s mouth, he slowly pulled Xander’s shirt up, gradually revealing the golden flesh. Xander, in turn, pulled at Spike’s shirt. Finally, Spike pulled back, parting them just enough so that they could each pull the shirts over the others head. Spike grabbed the cloth in his hands, tossing it across the room. He feasted on the sight below him. Xander glowed in the low light of the bedside lamps, shining like a star.

Xander finally opened his eyes, needing to see Spike’s body. The familiar white skin, the perfect hardness of that chest, the faint line of hair disappearing into those black jeans. His mouth went dry as he stared.

They stayed locked like that for a few minutes, hands tracing across each other’s flesh until the desire for contact overwhelmed them. This time it was Xander who pulled Spike onto his body, crushing the vampire down onto him, craving that coolness to bathe his heat.

Spike moved down Xander’s throat, kissing a meandering path to Xander’s nipples which had already hardened into stiff peaks. He slowly licked a circle around the hard nubbin on Xander’s right side, watching his lover’s face the entire time. Xander gasped and arched into Spike’s mouth. “Christ, Spike,” the broken words panted out. “Please, so good.” Spike took the flesh further into his mouth, lapping slowly across the nipple while his hand stole up to Xander’s left side. He ran the flat of his palm against that hard, hot flesh and another gasp stole from Xander’s mouth. He slowly licked across, finally bathing the other nipple in long, hot kisses. Xander began to moan, unconsciously thrusting his hips up and down.

Spike began to kiss his way lower, longing to drag this out further, but knowing that Xander was getting close to the edge. He hesitated when he reached the waistband of Xander’s pants, wanting to just rip them off, but needing more to be sure this was what Xander wanted. His concern, however, was quickly answered when Xander lifted his hips from the bed as he reached down to unzip his pants.

“You gonna help or what?”

Grinning, Spike grabbed the legs of Xander’s pants and in one strong move tore them from Xander’s body. Xander’s boxers came off with them, and Spike drew in a sharp breath as the feast which lay before him. Xander was so very beautiful. Spike smelled the sudden scent of embarrassment and hesitation, and he immediately leaned down for a gentle kiss.

“Xander, you are so beautiful. So perfect, so pure.” Spike murmured into Xander’s ear. He began to run his hands down Xander’s side. “I want you so much.” He felt the tension begin to ease from his boy’s body, and Spike took the opportunity to sit up, moving to the foot of the bed.

“So beautiful.” The words were sighed out as Spike began to kiss his way up Xander’s legs. “You taste so good.” Slowly, slowly he kissed along Xander’s calves, moving from leg to leg, leaving no spot untouched.

Xander reached out blindly, grabbing the sheets, desperately trying to control the sensations flooding him. This was better than anything he had ever dreamed. His thoughts had been occupied almost exclusively with daydreams about Spike for some time, but this was a million times better than any fantasy. He gasped again as Spike lavished attention on his thighs, drawing ever closer to the hard length pressed into his stomach. He swallowed and concentrated, wanting to endure for as long as he could.

Spike moved up Xander’s body, ravishing every inch he could find. **So pure, like tasting the sky.** He knew he was torturing Xander, but he wanted to memorize every part of him, wanted to pull it into himself. However, the rise in Xander’s heartbeat and a sudden change in his scent warned him that he was close to going too far. Settling himself between Xander’s legs, he moved so that his mouth hovered over the tip of Xander’s cock. It was long and straight, as perfect as the rest of Xander. The tip was already shiny with pre-cum and the scent of it blew through Spike’s senses. He gently reached up, caressing the long length was careful fingertips. Watching Xander’s face, focusing all his senses on feeling any hesitation coming from his lover, he lowered his mouth and took the flesh into his mouth.

Xander gasped, helplessly arching upwards. He almost came right then. He had never felt anything so good in his life. Not even Anya had affected him like this. He didn’t know if it was the way Spike was caressing his balls or the way Spike’s tongue trailed and traced around the sensitive skin at the tip of his prick or if it was the fact that it was Spike, the man he loved more than life itself, sucking him deeply down that made it so intense. Waves of pleasure poured over him and he lost all ability to think, could only feel. He whimpered meaningless sounds, a look of pure exhilaration on his face.

Spike sucked him in slowly, taking Xander as far into his mouth as he could. He moved slowly, knowing that Xander wouldn’t last long. He set up a steady rhythm, moving up and down the shaft, trailing his tongue around the hardness. He could feel the tension building and he quickened the pace, one hand grabbing the base while he turned all his attention to the tip. He felt the build, heard Xander’s breath coming in long, hard pants and then heard Xander call his name, “Spike, Spike, god, Spike!” and the strong, salty taste poured down his throat. He greedily sucked up every drop, the intensity of the taste the same as Xander’s blood. When he had wrung out every drop he could, he moved back up to lie next to Xander, pulling him close, dropping light kisses into his hair.

Xander leaned up and grabbed the back of Spike’s head, yanking him into a strong kiss. He could taste himself in Spike’s mouth and the mixture of their flavors pulled a strong moan from him. One. They were one. He slowly realized that Spike was still wearing his jeans, that he could feel Spike’s hardness against him. Reaching down, he quickly unbuttoned the jeans, yanked down the zipper and started to tug the impossibly **no perfectly, you KNOW what they do for his ass** tight jeans down. Spike’s hands reached down to stop him.

“No, pet, for you, all for you. Don’t worry about me,” Spike muttered into his mouth. He didn’t want Xander to feel he had to do this. As aroused as he was, he was content with the look of pleasure on Xander’s face. **I did that, I made him that happy.**

“I want to worry about you. I want you. Please, Spike,” Xander’s voice trailed off a bit. He didn’t know how to ask this. He wanted it, he wanted Spike to fill him, to claim him, to possess him. Xander felt the blush creep over him, but he was determined. He needed this, he wanted this. “Please, Spike, I want you. I want you to…” Again his voice sank away. **Oh, fuck this!** “Spike, I want you inside me.”

Spike went still. He hadn’t expected this. He had long resigned himself to the fact that if by some miracle he would ever have a chance with Xander that this would not be part of their relationship. He could not imagine Xander trusting anyone enough to allow that, let alone Xander wanting anyone to do that.

“Xander,” now it was Spike’s turn to hear his voice break. “Xander, are you positive? I don’t want to…” Spike locked eyes with his lover, unable to continue. **To what, hurt you, make you think of that monster, do anything to you that creature did, remind you of him in any way.** “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hurt you.” Spike’s voice shook. He wanted nothing more than this. He couldn’t claim Xander, not the way he should be since he couldn’t bite him and this was the next closest thing. But he wouldn’t hurt Xander, couldn’t hurt Xander.

“I know, the chip,” Xander went to continue but was stopped by a finger on his lips.

“No, not the chip. I don’t want to hurt you. I could never hurt you. I will never hurt you.” The sincerity burned in those blue eyes, tearing into Xander’s heart.

“But I want this. I really do. Spike, I want to be part of you, I want you to be part of me.” A smile suddenly crossed Xander’s face. “Besides, you said this was all for me. Well, I want you in me. Spike, I really do. I need to, I want to, believe me.” Xander ran his fingers down the side of Spike’s face, trying to convince him.

Spike just stared down at the disheveled body below him. Xander meant it. His hands started to shake as the love this represented overwhelmed him. Nodding, unable to speak, he leaned down and gently kissed Xander.

“If that’s what you want…” A sudden thought struck him and he fell back on the bed, groaning. **Of all the bloody luck!** “Um, pet, don’t know how to put this, but I, well, I don’t have anything to…” Spike stopped unsure of how to broach this topic.

Xander just grinned suddenly, reaching out to his side and opening a drawer in the bedside table. Spike just stared as Xander leaned up, rummaged around and then dropped something on the bed between them. Spike’s jaw dropped in shock when he saw the tube of lube. When he looked up, he saw Xander grinning from ear to ear, a pleased expression in his eye.

“Pet, when did you get that?” It was the only possible question he could think to ask.

“Last week,” came the answer, laughter obvious in the voice. “Didn’t know if it was good planning or wishful thinking, but, be prepared, you know.” Xander just smirked. He had been in the grocery store the previous week, picking up milk and cigarettes and the Godiva white chocolate ice cream Spike was addicted to. Walking down the wrong aisle and daydreaming about licking the ice cream off Spike’s chest, he had caught sight of the box out of the corner of his eye. On sudden impulse he had thrown it into the cart and, when he came home, had moved it to his nightstand when Spike went out that night.

“Good planning.” Spike grinned back at him. The smiles slowly faded and were replaced by a rising heat. He heard Xander’s heartbeat quicken as Xander’s hand began to trail along his chest.

“So, let’s put it to good use then,” the words spoken slowly, but with conviction.

“Are you absolutely positive?” Spike had to ask one last time, had to be sure. His answer came when Xander pushed him back and ripped off his pants.

Xander inhaled sharply, openly gaping at the sight of Spike lying naked before him. Spike was perfect, there was no other way to put it. Long, lean, hard. Perfect. He reached out a hand and grasped Spike’s shaft, desperate for contact. He heard a sudden hiss and saw Spike’s face contort in pleasure. Wickedly grinning, he began to stroke his vampire, listening to the sounds coming from underneath him. After a minute, however, he was suddenly forced onto his back, Spike pinning his arms above his head.

“Keep that up and you won’t get your wish,” was growled into his lips. Xander just nodded.

Spike began to deeply kiss him, reaching out for the lube. If Xander was sure, and he could tell that Xander was sure, then Spike was desperate for this as well. He carefully squeezed out a generous amount and thoroughly coated his the fingers of his right hand. He drew Xander’s legs up and pulled him flat on the bed. He could smell the nervousness and strength in equal measures.

“I won’t hurt you. I promise. I’ll make this feel so good.” Spike began to whisper as he reached down slowly, finally meeting the burning flesh. “Just tell me if you don’t like it and we’ll stop.” Xander just nodded, his eyes falling shut.

Spike gently pressed one finger forward, moving slowly, taking care to be as slow as he could. He pushed carefully, gasping a little at the tightness and heat he found. He moved slowly, until his finger was completely inserted. He probed gently, finally encountering his goal. He gently stroked Xander’s prostate, delighted by the sudden cry beneath him.

“Christ, so good, do that again.”

Smiling slightly, Spike repeated his gesture and Xander arched up under his ministrations.

“More, please, more.”

Pulling out carefully, Spike added a second finger. He entered more quickly, Xander’s passage already relaxing. Spike began to carefully thrust in and out, making sure to stroke Xander’s prostate each time. Xander quickly hardened again and his hips began to move in time with Spike’s hand.

“Please,” the words fell from hot lips, Xander’s eyes were still closed and his head tossed back and forth. “Please.”

Spike added a third finger and found his entry to be smooth. He still slowly prepared Xander, taking infinite care. He wanted this to be amazing. He wanted to blow Xander’s mind. He wanted Xander to know what felt like to be filled so that Xander would fuck him next time. Finally satisfied with his preparations, he curled Xander’s legs into his chest. He wanted to face him as he entered, wanted to see the reactions on that lovely face.

Spike quickly coated himself, making sure he was as slick as could be. He positioned himself at Xander’s entrance, then reached a hand up to rest on Xander’s face.

“Xander,” he said quietly, “Please, look at me.”

Xander opened his eyes, his breath coming quickly.

“I love you,” Spike said, then slowly entered him, his eyes on Xander’s face the entire time.

Xander thought he was going to die from the pleasure. The times with his father had been so violent and had hurt so much. This, this was heaven. He wanted to respond to Spike, repeat the words, let Spike know he loved him too. But he couldn’t speak.

Spike’s eyes rolled back as he moved slowly, as slowly as he could. The tightness and heat were overwhelming. He felt no hesitation, his preparations having fully opened his lover. Sinking down, he entered Xander to the hilt, completely wrapped together. Spike forced his eyes open and he looked down, wanting to be sure there was no trace of pain on Xander’s face. He saw Xander staring back at him, nothing but pleasure written there.

“Spike, Spike, I love you. I love you so much. Everything. Always.”

Those words sent Spike over the edge. He began thrusting in and out, moving deliberately but steadily. A hand wrapped itself around Xander’s renewed hardness and they began to move in unison, their climax approaching quickly. Spike’s thrusts grew faster, more frantic and with a cry he came, Xander’s echoing cry coming a second later. He spilled into Xander, shooting his seed in as deeply as he could. He dropped slowly onto Xander’s chest, reluctantly pulling out so that he could wrap his lover **Mine, forever, mine** into a tight embrace. They panted together, still shaking. Finally, Xander pulled away slightly, leaning up for a quick kiss.

“That was incredible.” Xander had loved it, loved the feel, the connection. Loved that Spike said he loved him. Loved that he knew Spike loved him. Loved Spike.

“Yes, it was.” Spike’s hold on Xander tightened for a second. It was better than he had imagined. And he had spent a very long time imagining just this.

“Spike?”

“Yes, Xander?”

“I love you.” Xander sighed out the words.

Spike smiled, contentment flooding through him. “I love you, too. Now, what do you say we go shower. Always wanted to wash your back.”

Xander grinned. “Ok, I always wanted to wash your front.”

Spike grinned back. He felt incredible. Xander loved him. Xander had said he loved him. Xander loved him. **And I’m turning into an enormous whipped pouf of a wanker.**

Standing up, he reached up a hand. “C’mon, pet, let’s get washed up then sleep. Wanna get some rest so I can shag you rotten tomorrow.”

Xander grinned as Spike pulled him up. Looking at the clock he saw it was 2:30 in the morning. “Spike, technically, it is tomorrow.”

“Well, then best get cracking.”

Matching idiotic smiles on their faces, they walked hand in hand to the bathroom.

Part Ten

Xander slowly opened his eyes, a feeling of utter contentment running through his body. He had grown so used to waking up slightly anxious, muscles still tense from subconsciously waiting for an attack. This had started to fade somewhat since he had moved out, but the nightmares which still plagued him had not allowed him to completely relax. But now, for the first time since he could remember, he woke up entirely refreshed. He knew exactly why, it was because of the cool weight which was draped across his chest. He hadn’t realized until now that the smell of cigarettes mingled with hairgel would calm him completely. Hadn’t realized it, that is, until Spike’s head had rested on his chest, until the scent drifted up to him.

Xander smiled to himself, enjoying the feel of the flesh under his hands. Spike was still asleep, well, at least he thought the vampire was still asleep. It was so difficult to tell since Xander couldn’t rely on the sounds of a muffled heartbeat or the steady pull of breathing. So Xander had him all to himself for at least a few moments, could stare down to his heart’s content. Spike was so gorgeous, the sharp line of his cheekbone casting shadows along his face. Some time during the night they had turned and Xander was now resting on his back, Spike’s head on his chest, the vampire’s body sprawled next to his. Xander’s right arm was wrapped around that firm body, almost completely encircling the slender waist. He hadn’t realized just how compact Spike was until they were in the shower, until Xander had run his hands over every inch of that body, calm enough after their lovemaking to enjoy without the hot need burning through him. Well, mostly. Sort of. A little bit. Okay, maybe he had pinned Spike to the shower wall a few times and tried to suck his tonsils out through his mouth, but, please, he was only human - a wry grin crossed his face as those words went through his head - and Spike was, well, Spike. Not that the vampire had protested. If they weren’t both so exhausted from the events of the night before, Xander was sure that the vampire would have been happy to have had sex in the shower.

But, between the sex and the beating Spike had taken, combined with the blood that Xander had given Spike to drink, they were both a little too worn out to try anything that strenuous.

Of course, Xander was thoroughly rested now. An evil smile crept over his face. Spike had murmured several things in his ear before they went to sleep the previous night. Among the promises, between vows of love and oaths of protection, had been one comment that was now driving Xander slowly insane.

“Don’t worry, pet, don’t be shy around me. I’ll teach you everything I know. Give me a chance and I’ll make sure you know just how to make me scream.” A tongue had traced the contours of his ear as the words fell into his mind.

Xander began to stroke his fingers through Spike’s hair while his other hand ran up and down Spike’s flank. A low rumbling purr started beneath him, delighting Xander to no end. When they had finally emerged from the shower, basically driven out when the hot water ran out and Xander’s lips had started to turn blue, Spike had set about making sure that Xander as comfortable as possible. Spike had washed him from head to toe, even washing Xander’s hair. The whole time the same low, contented rumbling had come from Spike. Xander didn’t even have to ask, it was obvious that Spike was purring, that he was completely pleased. The noise was soothing and slightly arousing all at once. Soothing, because the hum of it came from some low register which made him sleepy and arousing because Xander knew that Spike was happy, that he had made Spike happy, that he had made Spike feel so secure. Spike had pulled him over to the bed and set him down then pressed a quick kiss to Xander’s lips.

“Right back, Xan, why don’t you get dressed, I want to go get something.”

Xander opened his mouth to ask what Spike was after, but Spike had already left the room. Shrugging, wondering what his lover was up to, he decided to pull on something comfortable. Looking over, he saw the shirts they had been wearing lying on the floor where they had landed when Spike had tossed them away. Padding over, he picked up the shirt he had put on Spike and held it in his hands. It smelled like Spike, the trace of tobacco there but other scents too. Surprisingly, it was a fresh, clean smell, which was in sharp contrast to what he had expected. Xander inhaled it deeply, wishing he could smell Spike on it the way Spike could smell his own scent. Sighing, he slipped it over his head, moving back to pull open a drawer and pull out an old pair of sweats. Comfy, he cocked his head and listened closely. Spike was doing something in the kitchen. Curious, he headed out to see what his partner was up to.

Spike moved quickly and efficiently around the kitchen, gathering together a light supper for Xander. It was one of his many well-kept secrets that he was actually rather an accomplished cook. While vampires didn’t need to eat, not food anyway, Spike enjoyed a good meal on occasion. He had not had many chances to cook with Dru and since the crypt had no kitchen, he had not had any opportunities there. Since moving into the apartment, he had made a few meals for Xander, simple things like stir-fry or pasta, wanting to make sure that Xander consumed something other than the junk food that his body seemed to thrive on. Spike knew that Xander had to be starving, that the blood loss would shortly begin to catch up to Xander and make him dizzy.

Spike pulled the eggs out and quickly broke them into a bowl, stirred in some milk, salt and pepper, then expertly poured the mixture into the heated pan. Xander liked omelettes, the protein would be good and it was light. Besides, he made excellent omelettes, light and fluffy and he wanted to show off, just a little. Spike smiled at the thought. **Bloody right I want to show off, want to treat him like the god he is, take care of him the way he should be.** Spike shook his head at this train of thought.

He had always been a hopeless romantic. Before he had been turned, William had been bookish and shy, besotted with Cecily, living to please her. When he had been turned, his essential nature had not changed, just been twisted slightly. He had been as devoted to Angelus as he had ever been to Cecily, becoming whatever his Sire wanted to make him happy. It had made Angelus happy to have a childe as vicious and cruel as he was, so Spike had turned into a vicious killer to please him. It was meant as a gift, an act of devotion. And with Drusilla, he had instantly been her devoted slave. He had known she was unstable, childish and difficult, but he didn’t care. He knew that no matter what he did Dru would always want Angel more, but, again, he didn’t care. He needed to take care of someone and Dru needed him. She had been his dark princess and together they had caused rivers of blood to flow. All as an offering to her. Spike did love violence, it appealed to him deeply, but he was not as cold-blooded as Angelus, Dru and Darla. He had some code of honor, twisted as it was. Dru’s abandonment had crushed him and he had been lost without someone to love.

Now… now, he had Xander. Spike had thought hard about the reasons for his feelings, wanting to be sure that he was not just latching onto the boy because Xander had been so helpless and Spike needed to be needed. He had spent hours prowling through the apartment searching to be sure that what he felt was true. He had ruthlessly examined himself and had finally realized that his emotions were authentic. Yes, in part he was drawn to Xander because Xander needed him, but that was not why he loved the dark eyed beauty. It was Xander’s strength, heat, kindness and purity that drew him like a moth to a flame. No matter what, Xander bounced back, was thrown down again and again and just smiled and returned. It awed Spike that this human was so resilient and brave, facing down evil of all kinds open eyed but still hopeful. Spike knew his love for Xander was like nothing he had ever known.

Spike shook himself out of his reverie and expertly flipped the omelette. It was done quickly and Spike slid it onto a plate. He turned to pour out a glass of milk and was looking for a tray when he heard the sound of Xander walking into the kitchen.

Xander had smelled the delicious scent of cooking as soon as he started down the hall. His mouth had instantly started watering and he realized that he was starving.

“Hey, that smells good,” he called out as he settled onto the stool, enjoying the sight of a topless Spike cooking in their kitchen. Spike had grabbed a pair of Xander’s sweatpants and the vision of Spike wearing his clothes was stirring a low flame of desire in Xander. Especially since they were dipping off Spike’s slender hips. Xander licked his lips, clearly picturing Spike’s tight ass in his hands. **Down boy, down, gotta eat, gotta get strength so you can play with the pretty.**

“Thought you might be hungry, you’ve had a busy night,” Spike replied, sliding the plate over along with a fork and some napkins. He leaned on the other side of the counter as Xander hungrily attacked his plate.

“Yehmf, dimff reayibize,” Xander started to talk while simultaneously eating and downing the glass of milk. He swallowed and started over. “Yeah, didn’t realize how much. This is great, Spike.”

Spike just smiled, raking in the sight of Xander’s swollen lips and wet hair. The shower had been great, he had gotten to clean Xander, been able to run his hands lovingly over the strong body, gotten to run his hands through that thick hair. He felt his arousal begin to grow again and just shook his head. **Bloody hell, I could spend the rest of the night shagging him and it still wouldn’t be enough.** As much as he wanted to do just that, he also wanted to let the events of the evening sink fully into his mind. He had made love to Xander. It still seemed unbelievable. He had wanted just this for so long that he was finding it hard to accept as real, he kept expecting to wake up as he had so many times before, waking to reach out for Xander only to find that he was alone, that it was just a dream.

Of course, his dream Xander usually didn’t run his finger along a plate, trying to lick up every last crumb. Xander finally stopped, satisfied that he had devoured the entire meal. It tasted wonderful and he felt so content, so happy. A huge yawn gripped him, and he stretched.

“Tired, Xan?”

Xander just nodded, his eyes closed. He hadn’t realized just how tired until that moment. Between the shower and the food, not to mention the mind-shattering sex, he was completely relaxed. Exhaustion was being to steal over him. It had been a very long night. Looking up, he saw it was now nearly 3:30 in the morning. No wonder he was so tired.

Spike walked over, pulling Xander behind him as they headed back to sleep. Spike hated to admit it, but he was just as spent. Along with the physical drain, the emotions of the night were taking their toll. He had been terrified when the fledglings had attacked, furious that he was being ripped away, that he was losing his love, that Xander would no long be safe and protected. Then he had been jerked back to consciousness by the taste of Xander’s blood, terror again ripping through him when he thought he had taken too much. Then the shock of Xander kissing him, immediately followed by the enormous relief of finally admitting his feelings. Then the sensation of taking Xander as his, of feeling Xander surrounding him. Now, the security of knowing that Xander loved him too. It was fabulous, it was tremendous, it was making him very, very tired.

They collapsed onto the bed, crawling under the covers. Automatically, Xander turned onto his right side and Spike curved behind him. Just like always. Except this time Xander’s fingers were locked with Spike’s and Spike could whisper all the things he had been longing to say. He felt Xander drift off and then he shortly followed him in rest.

On to Parts 11 - 14



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