NOTHING IS FOREVER 11
by
flaming muse

 

 

 

Spike was leaning against the wall in Xander's hallway when Xander got home from work the next evening. Lounging next to the door to the apartment, he was flicking his lighter on and off but not actually smoking. He raised his head and gave a half-smile when Xander came up the stairs.

"How did you get in?" Xander asked to keep himself from saying something completely stupid. It wasn't that he was unhappy to see Spike, but he wasn't sure quite what had gone on between them, apart from the writhing around and the naked bodies and the orgasming. He had hoped to have some time to sort things out before their paths crossed again.

Nearly late for work because he hadn't set the alarm and then caught up in pulling down water-damaged plaster ceilings all day, Xander he hadn't had time to think about what had happened or the fact that he had woken up alone, with the comforter over him and the light switched off. The alone didn't surprise him, but the consideration that Spike had shown did.

Spike had even left a message on the Snoopy notepad by Xander's kitchen phone. Of course, it had said
Don't want to be the sort to leave without a note. I'm off. Will try to remember to buy you some proper notepaper, but he had still left one.

Xander felt like he was floundering, trying and failing to understand this new Spike, and he couldn't seem to get a hold on what was happening. Sure, they had now had two undeniably hot encounters, but the whole talking part of whatever their relationship was wasn't going quite so well. He had hoped to be able to think a bit about what was going on, but Spike was here again, this time entirely of his own volition, and there was no way that Xander could turn him away.

"Door was open again. I wanted to try out your big telly," Spike said, pushing away from the wall. "Thinking of buying one, myself, but I thought I should watch yours first to see if it was worth it."

"What - is there a game on you want to see?" Xander unlocked his door and let Spike follow him inside.

Spike shrugged.

"You've got lots of channels; I can find something."

Xander was too tired to argue and wasn't sure that he wanted to anyway. He shrugged off his coat and sighed as a shower of plaster particles drifted to his carpet.

"Make yourself at home. There's beer in the fridge. I'm going to take a shower."

"You do look a bit ghostly over there." Spike wandered over toward the couch.

"You have no idea," said Xander. "I've probably got plaster between my toes there was so much of it in the air today."

Spike grunted and picked up the remote.

"Want me to turn it on for you?" Xander asked.

"I'm sure I can figure it out," said Spike. He pulled off his leather jacket, the short one this time, and slumped onto the couch.

"Okay." Xander stood dumbly for a moment and watched Spike inspect the buttons on the remote and ignore him entirely.

There were too many questions to ask and too much plaster in his ears, so Xander focused on his immediate needs and headed toward the bathroom. He turned on the shower and undressed quickly, shoving his clothes into the laundry bag in the bedroom so that the pale dust wouldn't turn to paste from the steam. When he was safely back in the bathroom he took off his eye patch, cleaned it with a damp towel, and laid it on the sink.

When the water was hot enough, he stepped under the spray and closed his eye, letting the sweat and plaster slide off of his body and disappear down the drain. He rolled his shoulder and neck and let some of the tension in his muscles dissipate under the relentless blast of warm water. Once his skin was no longer coated with a layer of solidified dust, he grabbed the soap and began to clean himself more thoroughly.

He wasn't trying to think of Spike while he washed, but his body had reacted to the sight of the vampire, and his mind flashed back to their activities of the previous night. As he scrubbed himself, he remembered the fire in Spike's eyes when they kissed, the feel of that hard erection against his stomach, the groans of satisfaction as their movements had intensified.

Xander let out a groan himself and tried to ignore his own growing erection. It's not like he could relieve his arousal in the shower when Spike was in the living room, but he sure as hell couldn't go back out there in this state. It was too embarrassing, if also likely to lead him to making bad decisions. Spending time with Spike was tricky enough; he didn't need to add his rampant hormones into the mix.

So he kept his hands well above his waist and shampooed his hair. He tried to think of boring things, like schedules and time sheets, but he was having little luck calming his body by the time he ducked his head under the spray to rinse away the suds. He stood with his face tilted up into the water and debated the merits of masturbation with a vampire nearby versus facing said vampire with a raging hard-on. Neither seemed like a good option.

He nearly leapt out of his skin when something cool traced his spine from neck to waist.

"Geaaagh!" he cried, twisting around halfway and then whirling back so that his face was hidden. His feet slid on the bottom of the tub, and he grabbed the wall to keep himself upright. "Spike! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"You look much nicer when you're not all white and pasty," Spike said, running his hands over Xander's back. "Wet and slippery is even better."

"What are you doing in here?" Xander asked. As much as he wanted to drink in the sight of an equally naked, wet, and slippery Spike, he kept his face turned away.

"I was sitting on the couch watching some idiots blather on about chuff all and couldn't stop thinking about what we could be doing in here together. I see you started without me," Spike said, pressing close and running his hands along Xander's hips and down his thighs. One thumb brushed along Xander's erection, and Xander drew in a sharp breath.

"God, Spike..."

"Were you thinking of me?" Spike trailed his tongue along Xander's shoulder and up his neck.

Xander wasn't sure that he could think at all, not with Spike hard against his back and Spike's hands wandering over his chest and stomach. Somehow the question filtered through to his brain, and he couldn't possibly come up with a lie.

"Yes."

"What were you thinking about?" Spike asked. The fingers of one hand began to trace over one of Xander's nipples, while the other began to move lower on Xander's abdomen.

"You. Touching you. You touching me."

"I
am touching you."

Xander shuddered as water-warmed fingers slid over his erection and formed a loose channel around it. He desperately wanted to kiss Spike, to press him into the wall and devour him, but he couldn't - wouldn't - turn around.

"Look, can you just give me a minute? I'll be done in a sec, and then we could go to the bedroom or something..."

"I like it here," said Spike, tightening his grip around Xander's cock and stroking it once, twice. "Don't you like it?"

"Oh, yeah, I..." Xander groaned as Spike quickened his pace slightly. "Fuck."

"We'll get there. Be patient." He nibbled on Xander's earlobe and slid the hand on his chest to play with the other nipple.

Unable to remember quite why he wanted this attention to stop, Xander reached back and gripped Spike's hips, pulling him more firmly against him. They both sucked in a breath as Spike's erection was cradled by Xander's buttocks and slid up toward the small of his back.

"Yes, definitely like you slippery," said Spike. He kissed Xander's shoulder and pressed in harder, crowding Xander against the wall and rubbing against him as he slowly jerked him off.

Xander let his head fall back on Spike's shoulder, keeping the scarred side of his face turned away, and clutched Spike's hip with one hand while he balanced against the wall with the other. The vampire stroked his erection and slid his other hand possessively across his chest and stomach. Spike's pace was achingly slow, but the twist of his fingers and the smooth slide of his thumb across the tip were so perfect that Xander's legs were shaking with the strain of standing still.

He didn't seem to be the only one lost in sensation. Spike's face was buried against Xander's neck, and the slickness between Xander's buttocks was from more than just water. Spike slid against him as he pulled and caressed, and Xander could feel the head of Spike's shaft gliding along his skin with every tilt of his hips.

"Want you," Spike murmured just beneath his ear. His hand tightened around Xander's cock.

Xander groaned and pulled Spike closer.

"Bedroom?" he asked hoarsely. He opened his eye and tried to blink away the haze of lust that was clouding his vision.

"You got a problem with your shower, mate? It looks pretty clean to me, and the water's nice and hot."

"No, I..."

Spike slid his free hand down to cup Xander's balls, and the concept of independent thought flew out of Xander's brain.

"You sure? You seem awfully interested in getting out." Spike pulled and tugged just hard enough, and Xander's eyelid slammed shut as he locked his knees and tried to keep himself from coming. "You want me to leave first?"

Spike's hands loosened, and Xander shook his head and tightened his grip on Spike's hip.

"No!" he said quickly.

Spike's rumble of laughter sent pulses of eager anticipation up Xander's spine.

"Right then. Hands on the wall." Spike released him and stepped back.

"Huh?" Dazed and lost without Spike's arms around him, Xander heard the rustle of the shower curtain behind him.

"Put your hands on the wall." Spike said more slowly. He returned and slid his hands down Xander's arms until he got to his wrists. He pushed Xander forward and placed the palms of his hands on the tiles. Nudging Xander's legs apart with his knee, he murmured in his ear, "Now stay there."

Xander dipped his head and let his hair fall into his face as he listened to Spike behind him. He heard the snap of a cap and wondered in confusion if Spike was going to brush his teeth.

A slick finger slid between his buttocks, and Xander's head shot upwards.

"What are you...?" he asked, breaking off with a gasp as the pad of one finger brushed over his perineum and the tight opening beyond. "That had better not be toothpaste."

Spike laughed again.

"Raided your nightstand before I came in," he said, slowing rubbing that finger over Xander's sensitive skin. "Never tried toothpaste before. Any good?"

"Let's not find out," said Xander, dropping his head again and pressing his fingers into the tiles.

Spike's finger kept moving, sliding back and forth over his pucker until Xander was rocking with the motion. He had a brief moment of distress when Spike turned away again, but his finger returned quickly and even more slippery.

"Okay?" Spike asked. He slid his free hand up Xander's chest and held him close when Xander nodded. His finger began to press, gently at first and then harder until the ring of muscle opened and accepted him inside.

Xander groaned at the intrusion, relishing the slight burn and the feel of the tip of Spike's finger.

"Good?" Spike's voice was a harsh whisper, and his arm was locked around Xander's chest.

"Yes. More. Please."

"I'm right here. Take what you want." He pressed a kiss to the nape of Xander's neck.

Squeezing his eye shut, Xander braced himself against the wall and pushed back against Spike's hand. The finger slid easily inside, and he trembled at the rush of pleasure that spread through his body.

"God, you're so tight," said Spike, panting against his shoulder. "So bloody tight."

"Don't do this a lot," Xander admitted.

Spike grunted and twisted his finger, sending sparks cascading through Xander's abdomen.

"But you are for me." His voice was husky as he crooked his finger slightly and turned it again. "You're doing this for me. Feel good to you?"

"Yes. God, yes." He could feel Spike's knuckles working against him, and he pushed back harder. They both groaned, and Spike rocked his erection against Xander's hip. "More."

Spike carefully removed his hand and released Xander briefly before sliding back into place and pushing two slick fingers inside.

Xander took in a shuddering breath and forced himself to relax as Spike slowly pressed inwards. He had been telling the truth; he didn't do this often, and he wasn't used to it. Spike was being careful, though, and it felt absolutely incredible.

"I can feel you opening for me," Spike said, resting his forehead on Xander's shoulder blade. Xander widened his stance, and Spike thrust deeper. "You're taking me in. Fuck, Xander. You're... Fuck."

Panting and desperately hard, Xander groaned as Spike spread his fingers and twisted his hand. It felt like every nerve in his body was being touched, and he rocked back into the movements, trying to take more, to feel Spike further inside. He swore as Spike found the spot that sent fireworks exploding behind his eyes, and they moved together as Xander's body stretched and quaked around Spike's fingers.

"Ready for more?" Spike asked.

"Fuck, yes!"

The arm that had been holding Xander so tightly loosened and slid downwards. Slippery with water and the pre-cum drooling from Xander's cock, Spike's hand began to pull gently on Xander's erection as he carefully pushed a third finger inside. The burning increased enough to cause Xander to tense, but the stimulation on his shaft kept his arousal high despite the discomfort.

"Okay?"

"Don't stop," Xander said, bearing down on the fingers and feeling his head spinning with an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. He felt his muscles loosening as he grew used to the intrusion.

Murmuring words of praise and delight, Spike kept stroking until Xander was writhing and fucking himself on his fingers and into his hand. Backwards or forwards, either way sent sharp splinters of arousal through his body, and he felt like he was going to be ripped apart by the pleasure.

"Fuck, Spike, I don't know about you," he managed to say in panting breaths, "but I'm pretty sure I'm going to die if you're not in me soon."

Spike laughed, this time with an edge of desperation, and bit gently on the side of Xander's neck.

"Can't have that, can we?" He pulled out his fingers and shifted to stand behind Xander. The blunt head of his cock brushed along the crack and against the back of Xander's balls before finding the right spot. Holding Xander's hips with both hands, Spike pushed slowly inside.

Words were beyond Xander. He was being filled, and it was
Spike, and he was so goddamn aroused that he wanted to scream with frustration and joy at the same time. It was too slow, too careful, and he couldn't wait another minute. He pressed backwards and took Spike in as deep as he could.

Groaning, they both went still, and Xander could feel Spike's fingers repeatedly tensing and relaxing as they gripped his hips.

"You are so hot, Xander. Tight and slick and... fuck!" Spike rocked forward, pushing in further, and they moaned in unison.

Spike slid one hand forward and gripped Xander's cock again. He pulled out and thrust in hard, and then he repeated the motion. As he fucked Xander, Xander fucked Spike's hand, and the feeling of being pushed open and sliding in that expert grip all at once was perfect, more than perfect. Xander bowed his head, braced himself, and got lost in the rhythm and the bright bursts of pleasure that crashed over him.

Good things never lasted, in Xander's experience, and this was no exception. As much as he wanted this moment to last for a lifetime he spiraled inexorably toward his orgasm. Spike's desperate grunts and rapid thrusts showed that he was equally close, and the thought of what he was doing and who he was doing it with was enough to send Xander's release surging out of him. He fell forward, and Spike pinned him to the wall, thrusting deep inside of him a few more times before groaning his name and collapsing against his back.

The cool surface of the tile and the cooling water running over them were enough to keep Xander from sliding into unconsciousness, but he couldn't do more than gasp for breath and lean against the wall as the world spun lazily around him.

Spike stirred first, pulling out gently and patting Xander's hip. Xander was tensing for the inevitable battle about turning around for some post-orgasmic kisses when to his surprise Spike stepped out of the tub.

"Ready for some dinner?" Spike asked, sounding satisfied and cheerful and entirely unconcerned that they had just fucked each other's brains out for the first time in his bathroom. "There's a Cary Grant movie on."

"Uh..."

"You clean up. I'll order dinner."

Before Xander could answer, Spike had left the room.

His ears still ringing from his orgasm, Xander washed quickly in the lukewarm water and turned off the shower. His body was pleasantly achy as he dried off and pulled his eye patch back on over his damp hair. He tugged on a t-shirt and sweatpants and wandered out to the living room.

"Dinner's on its way," Spike said. He was damp and appealingly rumpled, dressed only in jeans, and he handed Xander a beer. "You still like pizza, right?"

"Yeah." Xander sat on the couch and tried to pull his thoughts together while Spike flicked through channels. He was too tired and too sated to figure out what the hell was going on and why he felt both peaceful and hollow, and his brain gave up. He was actually drifting into sleep when there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," said Spike. He sauntered over to the door and dealt with the delivery person, giving him money from a shiny black wallet.

Just like old times, Xander thought. Paying for dinner with my money... Hey, wait, my wallet is brown.

"Did you just buy dinner?" he asked.

"Yeah." Spike placed the boxes on the kitchen counter and began to open cupboard doors.

"We should split it."

"Why? I've got money."

"Yeah, but..."

"Consider it reciprocation."

"For what? For all of those times you mooched off of me or for services rendered?" Xander asked, trying for but not quite achieving a grin.

"I never mooched. And what services rendered? As I recall, you just stood there while I did all the work."

Xander knew that Spike was joking; he could see it in his eyes, but that didn't stop the hurt from blooming in his chest. He looked away, unwilling to show how stupidly vulnerable he was. He was just tired, that's all.

"I meant reciprocation for all the money you spend at the restaurant, you git," Spike said, suddenly beside him with a plate of pizza. "Nothing more."

"Okay."

"It's just dinner, Xander."

"Yeah. Okay." He accepted the food and the unspoken apology.

They ate their dinner in silence, and Xander slumped back against the cushions when he was done. He didn't mean to be rude, but he could feel the consciousness bleeding out of his ears as Spike flipped channels and grumbled about old movies being edited by the networks. Before he could wake up enough to apologize for his fatigue, it was morning, the television was off, he was covered in a blanket, and he was alone.

There was a small pad of paper on the coffee table in front of him, and he smiled as he picked it up. It was obviously a Hallowe'en leftover and was decorated with a border of black and orange skeletons.

I'm off, the note read in Spike's precise handwriting. Nice TV. Like your shower even better.

 

PART 12

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