Blood

For the most part their love is bad poetry, hand crafted weapons, laughter and passion. But underneath it all blood is the tie that holds them together, it’s nourishment for one, an aphrodisiac for both and at times a reminder of their pasts.

Though the chip has long been disabled Spike still craves Xander’s blood like it is the only fresh he ever gets. It isn’t about feeding, it’s about the connection, the absolute kaleidoscope of emotions - in the form of hormones and pheromones and the other nifty little chemicals that flood his Mate’s blood - that Spike can taste. Ambrosia, if such a thing could be found on earth.

To Xander Spike’s blood is like a magic potion. It sparkles and cracks like pop-rocks across his tongue and through his veins; leaving him light-headed and feral in his need. It’s wicked, wicked stuff that makes him possessive and brutal, and practically giddy.

To say they are addicted would be an understatement; but it is an addiction neither would willing give up. They are each other’s source and enabler. A situation that suites them fine, even if no one else understands it.

-END-

For purrrfickitty, who wanted blood play. I tried but this was what came instead.

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