Title: Trade

Author: meagan

Fandom: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, the series

Summary: Spike. Xander. Xander's bed. Plot? I was supposed to put a plot in here? Oops. Um... Xander and Spike come to an agreement.

Distribution: Please ask. It's already on my page -- http://www.geocities.com/meaganola

Spoiler: Up through and including "Pangs" and a rumor I read at, um, Cross & Stake (I think) about Spike's housing situation in a few episodes (It's explained in the fic itself, so I'm not going to go into it here so I can skip spoiler space). I just couldn't let it go unaddressed.

Rating: Hard R to NC-17. I think.

Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. If they were mine, things would be different. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot.

Note: This was written mostly while at work and on some pretty danged funky painkillers. My tolerance level for these things had suddenly vanished, but I didn't know this until about twenty minutes after I took my normal dosage. Or maybe the Nyquil (in the words of Denis Leary, "We love you, you big fucking Q!") I took the night before wasn't completely out of my system before I took the painkillers, causing a fun drug interaction. Anyway, most extreme bizarreness can be attributed to that. We're not discussing the source of the rest of the extreme bizarreness.

Trade

By meagan

Xander was asleep. He knew that. He was fully aware that the mouth at his neck -- and the teeth gently kneading his skin -- was not really there. The hand under his t-shirt and on his chest, fingernails teasing his nipples into sharp peaks, was not there. The fingers gently making their way down the front of his sweatpants, carefully massaging him and teasing him to full erection, did not exist. He was dreaming.

He knew all this, but he just couldn't convince himself to care.

So he just remained where he was, sprawled belly-up on his bed, letting the wonderful mouth work its magic. As long as he could stay in this lovely dream world, he was okay.

"Xander! We're leaving now!" His mother's voice sounded down the stairs, jolting him awake and out of his wonderful semi-conscious zone. He had forgotten that his family -- not including himself since he had fortunately convinced them to not force him to spend the day with them, pleading exhaustion after working the closing shift at his latest horrible job -- was going on some daytrip. His mother's latest family-togetherness brainstorm.

"Okay. See you later." He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the footsteps overhead leaving the house, door slamming behind them, leaving him in solitary peace.

And then he realized that he was wrong. He wasn't alone.

And he hadn't been dreaming.

That mouth was still at his neck, and those hands were still stroking him under his clothing.

As his brain slowly worked its way through the implications of fact that the hands and mouth actually did exist, his groin was informing him that it really didn't care what was going on as long as it continued. And, hey, as long as he wasn't getting upset at what was going on, he might as well join in. This was, after all, the kind of thing he realized he actually expected from Anya. And so he slowly, carefully allowed his hands to work their way up the back and neck of the body attached to the hands groping him. Gently, he kneaded shoulders, scraping his fingernails up the neck before sinking his hands into the short hair on the head at his neck.

Wait. Cool body. *Muscular* body. Short hair.

Not Anya.

"Don't worry. I won't bite." A deep male voice at his ear. A deep *British* voice. "Remember, I *can't* bite. But I *can* do this." A cool tongue swiped just behind Xander's ear at the same time the hand at his groin softly stroked the underside of his rapidly-hardening cock.

That's when he remembered. Thanksgiving and the sudden reappearance of Spike, begging for a truce. Giles, reluctantly agreeing to house Spike after the vampire proved utterly unable to harm anyone on the Slayer's side -- or anyone else, for that matter. In exchange for protection from those outside the Slayer's group that would kill him, Spike had agreed to provide information about the mysterious group that had tried to kill him during the attack on the girls' dorm room. Then the return of Giles' friend Olivia had forced Spike out of Giles' apartment and into the only vampire-friendly living space available. Xander's basement room.

And now Spike was not just in Xander's room. He was in Xander's *bed*.

And Xander had absolutely no desire to object. In fact, when Spike murmured into Xander's ear, directing the teen to lift up his hips, Xander found himself nodding and obeying. And then he found himself with an unclothed lower body. Abruptly, the mouth moved away from his neck and latched onto his inner thigh, teeth scraping roughly -- but not unpleasantly -- across his flesh. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it registered that he was about to be the recipient of a blowjob from a vampire.

Then Spike's tongue moved away from his thigh and dipped into his navel, and Xander forgot that this could possibly be a bad thing. Those hands moved to his t-shirt, and he lifted his arms so the shirt could be pulled off with ease.

"Are you all right?"

Xander's eyes flew open. He hadn't realized he had closed them. "Um... Yeah. Just..." He trailed off, not sure what else to say. "Slower? And maybe you should..." Again, he left his sentence unfinished, but his hands at Spike's waist conveyed his meaning nicely. Spike nodded, and Xander went to work, unfastening Spike's pants and pushing them off the vampire's hips while that wonderful mouth went to work on Xander's right nipple. Much to Xander's dismay, he realized it was time to push Spike away from his body so he could remove that t-shirt that was keeping them from skin-on-skin contact. Once the shirt was removed, he pulled Spike back down, this time chest-to-chest, mouth-to-mouth, groin-to-groin. It was strange. He had expected to be repulsed by the coolness of Spike's body, but it just seemed *right* against his own overheated skin. And the trapped feeling he had anticipated when Spike moved his legs to Xander's hips, straddling the teen, didn't materialize, either. He *did* feel a driving need to grind his pelvis against Spike's, but the vampire was doing a bang-up job of that, and Xander decided that it would be a shame to interrupt him or break his rhythm.

And then Spike grabbed his hands, bringing them together above his head, gently moving Xander's fingers so he was clasping his own forearms. "Stay there." Xander nodded, unsure how else to respond. Spike moved off his body. Resigned to his fate, Xander closed his eyes, waiting for the humiliating move he was sure would follow. Like, say, a camera flash going off, recording this moment for all to see.

It did not happen. Slowly, Spike's tongue traced a path down Xander's neck, down under his right arm (no, no tongue there. A nose *nuzzling* him, a voice in the back of his mind announced), down to his right nipple, over to his left nipple, down the middle of his chest, down to his navel, and over to his right hipbone. Suddenly, fingers brushed against his erection, causing his entire body to spasm.

"Are you all right?"

Oh. Someone was talking to him. Better give an answer if he expected a continuation of the tongue bath. "Yeah." Whoa. Was that *his* voice? "Just go back to what you were doing."

A chuckle. "You're pushy." The fingers brushed more firmly. "Not that it's a bad thing."

"Spike..."

Now the fingers traced around the head of his cock. "Good. You remember who I am." A gentle flick -- a *tongue*, he realized -- across the slit. "I think you deserve a reward for that."

Before Xander could even register the words and wonder what kind of reward could be involved, Spike's mouth engulfed his erection. And then Spike pulled away.

"Just remember everyone's gone for the day. No one will hear you if you yell."

"Huh?" *Now* Spike was threatening him?

"Sorry. Poor choice of words." Xander heard a soft click. "I meant, no one will hear you if you make any noise. You won't have to explain anything later." A finger traced down the underside of his cock, leaving a cool trail behind. Lube, he realized. "So feel free to moan. Otherwise, I will have to wonder if I'm doing a good job." The finger gently probed its way up away from his erection, finally pausing when it found the small ring of muscle. "Relax now, okay? I won't hurt you. If I had wanted to hurt you, I would have done it before now. I have never been the sort to play with my victims. Besides, remember the whole searing pain in my head thing. I don't hate you enough to want to go through that hell."

It was a strange sort of logic, but it worked. He imagined all of the tension in his body draining out his toes. As his muscles went lax, the finger worked its way in at the same time Spike's tongue lapped its way from the base of his erection to the head. Once the finger was fully inserted, Spike once more lowered his mouth to Xander's cock. It occurred to Xander to wonder just how in the world Spike could create this suction since he didn't have to breathe, but the teen decided to chalk it up to the same mechanism that allowed the vampire to smoke cigarettes.

And then his brain just shut off. It was as if it became irritated with him for thinking random thoughts, so it wouldn't let him think *anything*. But that was okay since the lack of thoughts swirling around in his head allowed him to concentrate on the mouth sucking him and the finger probing him. Up and down, in and out, rinse and repeat -- and then Spike's other hand stroked a spot Xander hadn't even been aware existed at the same time the finger crooked. When Xander's spasms subsided, Spike carefully pulled his hand from Xander's body.

Finally, Xander caught his breath. "What was *that*?"

Spike grinned. "Did you like it?"

"Uh, yeah. Couldn't you tell?"

The vampire shrugged. "You didn't shout or moan or much of anything else."

Xander flushed. "Well, I've gotten kind of used to being quiet around here. I know there's no one home, but old habits die hard."

"Ah." Then silence.

"So." Conversation suddenly seemed appropriate. "What was that about?"

Spike shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea. Besides, you were just so *cute*, asleep with that little puddle of drool on your pillow, that I just couldn't resist."

Xander sat up and looked at his pillow. A wet spot. He tentatively touched it in case it was something else. "Just drool."

"Yeah." Now the vampire stood and stretched. "You know, I use those pillows when you're not here. I can handle a bit of saliva, but rest assured that's the only body fluid on your pillow." He paused, frowning. "Except..."

"Except? Except *what*?" Suddenly, that word held a potentially scary meaning. And Xander wasn't quite sure he wanted to hear what meaning Spike was putting behind it.

"Except..." Spike sat down on the bed, placing one hand behind Xander's neck and pulling the teenager's head toward his own until their foreheads were touching. When Xander flinched, Spike sighed, running one finger down Xander's cheek. "You were crying. In your sleep."

"Oh. Yeah. I was." He pulled away from Spike. "Wouldn't you? I mean, let's look at my lovely life. The jobs I've held over the past couple of months. Bartender -- working illegally at a pub that served evil beer? Giles' houseboy? Hot dog on a stick? The construction work paid well, but that job flew out the window when I got sick. Yay syphilis. So here I am, working my way through the most pathetic jobs in Sunnydale history. I'm sure they'll invent more bad jobs just in case I run out of existing bad jobs to try. Living in my parents' basement. With a vampire who -- no offense -- tried to *kill* me."

Spike smiled gently. "No offense taken."

"So. Now we know why Xander was sad." He paused, not sure whether he should continue.

"But..."

At the prompt, Xander returned Spike's gentle smile. "But we still don't know why Spike decided to molest Xander in his sleep."

"No, we don't." Spike's smile faded. "Do you *really* want to know?" Xander nodded warily. "Well, that's too bad. Because I don't have a reason."

"Oh." Spike watched Xander carefully pick lint off his comforter, deliberately not looking at Spike. Suddenly, he stopped. "You were just so overwhelmed by my cuteness that you felt compelled to get me naked?"

The smile returned. "You make it sound so... not sordid."

"Spike..."

"Okay, okay." Spike fell back on the bed, sighing and rolling his eyes dramatically. "I am controlled by my impulses. I always get in trouble for it, but I can't say that I ever learn my lesson."

Now Xander's smile returned. "You make it sound so... something."

Spike shrugged. "It's a gift."

"So what's the lesson you were supposed to learn this time?"

"Good question." Spike closed his eyes, contemplating the query. Finally, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Uh oh." Xander noticed the expression on the vampire's face. "I think this is the part where I get nervous and regret what we just did."

Spike opened his eyes and shook his head, still grinning. "Not quite." He lifted one hand to Xander's neck. "It seems that, well, despite my inability to actually *bite* anyone, I can still do damage with my teeth."

Xander's eyes grew wide in shocked horror. "*What*?" He carefully lifted one hand to his neck.

"Don't be silly. I didn't mean like *that*." Smirking, he grabbed Xander's mirror from its resting spot next to the bed, angling it so Xander could see his collarbone. "It's a hickey. Surely you remember those from high school." He placed the mirror back on the table. When he turned his attention back to Xander, he found the teen flat on his back once more, gently stroking the mark on his neck -- and the matching mark on his inner thigh.

"You didn't break the skin."

"No, I did not."

"So... Why?"

"You know why. I *can't*."

"No, that's not what I mean." Xander grabbed a pillow, curling his body around it. "I mean, you know you can't bite. Why did you... suck?"

Spike shrugged. "I guess I'm orally fixated. It's like smoking cigarettes. I've seen humans try to quit. Some of them feel compelled to have something -- gum, a matchstick, a toothpick -- in their mouth whenever they feel like they need a cigarette. Or they take up knitting to keep their hands busy. They don't need the nicotine and smoke, but they need to keep their hands and mouths occupied." That smirk was back. "I guess I just need to keep my mouth and hands occupied, and you were here."

"And that's it."

"Not necessarily." He rolled over onto his stomach, resting his chin on his folded arms and gazing steadily at Xander. "I don't have a job, so I can't exactly pay you rent. And due to my... incapacitation, I can't turn to my normal routine of robbery to provide an income. But I can offer trade."

"Trade." Xander tried to keep his face expressionless, but his mouth just wasn't cooperating. No matter what he thought about, the corners just refused to do anything but lift up in a lazy grin. But even if he had managed to supress that smile, the blood rushing to his groin would have instantly revealed his feelings on the matter. "Sounds like a plan." Suddenly, a thought hit him. "Wait. If you're having sex with someone in exchange for a place to stay, doesn't that make you a prostitute? And what does that make me?"

"Hmm." Spike pretended to think over the questions. "I prefer to think of myself as a kept man, and you would be my benefactor." His expression turned serious. "But you do need to think about this." He caressed the mark on Xander's neck.

"Oh, crap. I forgot about that." Xander climbed out of bed and began pacing. "Well, I could say... No, that wouldn't work. Or, wait -- no, that won't fly either." Finally, he stopped and turned to Spike. "Aren't you going to say anything here?"

The smirk was back. "Not for a few more minutes. I was enjoying the floor show." Xander glanced down and realized that he was still naked. "But you could go with partial truth. Blame me. If anyone asks, just tell them that I did that while asleep. You woke up to me moaning Drusilla's name while sucking on your neck. Play the lovesick card."

"And if they don't believe that?"

Spike sighed. "What are they more likely to believe: That I mistook you for Dru and mauled you in your sleep or that we were both fully aware and consenting? People in this town believe what they *want* to believe, and I doubt that this agreement we just reached fits in any scenario acceptable to your little friends." He paused, frowning thoughtfully. "Except Giles. Somehow I can believe that he might have had a similar arrangement in the past." The grin returned. "If you get tired of me, maybe he would be interested in another."

"Don't count on it, Bleach Boy."

Spike pulled Xander down to the bed and into his arms, resting his head on the mortal's shoulder. "Good."

~~~ the end ~~~