by Roxy


“Did you make sure there’s no demon gunk on your boots? I hate cleaning up demon guts”…Xander’s voice trailed off as he was distracted by the book in his hands.

Spike walked over to the couch leaving purple footprints. He pulled a battered pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one as Xander frowned at him.

“Hey! “

“What cha doing, Shaggy, reading the funny books again?”

“Don’t smoke. I’m going to get in trouble if They think I’m smoking down here. And, funny book? When was the last time they called comics funny books Spike? The 40’s? 50’s?”

“Shadddup,” Spike replied in reflex, not really feeling any antagonism. He leapt over the back of the couch, plopped down next to Xander seized the book from him.

“HEY! Don’t do that, you’ll rip the cover! And don’t hold it like that, geez, you’ll break the spine.” He carefully retrieved his comic. “There’s a WAY you read them so you don’t crack them…and why am I telling you this when you so obviously think I’m an idiot…” He said at Spike’s incredulous look.

“Naw, just wondering than, what’s this thing called?” he jerked a thumb at the comic as he dropped an ash in Xander’s coke can.

“Hellblazer,” he frowned at Spike and wondered why he wasn’t going ballistic at the loss of his soda. When he looked up to meet Spikes eyes*blueblueblue* Spike was staring at him, looking, yes, a little queasy, actually. He’d never seen the vampire that off kilter and he was equal parts amused and worried. Whatever was making Mr. Tight Jeans nervous could not be good for them…

“The name I saw, Constantine…John--” Spikes voice dried up and squeaked out of his throat, and Xander was rendered speechless by the sight of Spike going from even paler*Holy…how is THAT possible* to… actually blushing. A pale pink to be sure, but Xander, having produced endless epic blushes recognized one when he saw it. And right now, Spike was blushing the vampire equivalent of a beet red, head to toe, full body, kill me now blush.

“Yeah? Constantine? He’s the lead character in the book.”

Spike dropped his eyes, and muttered, “He’s real”

Xander goggled at Spike, and then laughed loud and hard.

“Spike, what the hell!” he gasped, “That’s the lamest shit I’ve ever heard coming from you, oh teeny princelet of lies.”

Spike’s head shot up, and anger blazed out of his eyes. --How dare he laugh at me! Xander thinks I’m  short? Too short? He is kind of tall, did he not like short guys, or ---guys ….oh fer shit’s sake….

Spike deflated, let out a huge gusty sigh and said, “Oh, he’s pretty fucking real, Xander. Believe me. Why he’s letting this out--” He caught Xander’s pitying smirk, “Oh, right. ‘Cause no one in their right mind would believe it was real. No one not born on a *Hellmouth*, any way,” and got a little satisfaction from Xander’s smug expression wavering a bit.

Spike slumped on the couch and leaned his head back, propped his pack and lighter on his stomach and looked at Xander as pitifully as he could.

“I do feel the need to unburden myself of this horrible tale…but, dry…” He coughed weakly, and Xander rolled his eyes. He had to know what the hell Spike meant about Constantine being real, ‘cause crazy or not, it had to be better than watching re-runs of “Full House.” Again. He snorted, rose to head for the fridge.

“Blood or beer?” he asked and surprised himself that it came so easily to his lips.

“Ah, beer,” Spike nearly coughed again in amazement. Xander just asked him if he wanted blood? Wait-- Xander had blood? Since when? He always brought his own blood in, and he knew he ran out last night…

Xander came back with two bottles of beer and a conspiratorial look on his face.

“Two ice-cold ones, thanks to Tony…and you never heard that.”

“Don’t hear half the things you say, pet,” Spike muttered before taking a long pull off the bottle.

“Hunh?” Xander didn’t pick up what Spike said, but he didn’t need to hear it to figure he’d been insulted. --Did he call me pet...oh ...pest. Wanker--

“All right Spike, you’re rehydrated. Let’s hear this tale. Does Superman or Spider man figure in it at all, ‘cause I always wanted to meet them, especially Superman…always wanted to ask if that Super powered- ness extended to everything…’cause if so, I bet Smallville was just full of teeny tiny little holes…”

Spike looked at him in disgust, and said “First off, that’s sick and what is *wrong* with you, second, if you read real books, you might find out that better minds then yours have thought long and hard on the same issue, and again, sick—third, Constantine is real, a real bastard, real flesh and blood….”

Memories flooded his mind and he frowned. “That’s the problem with being undead—you don’t forget a bloody damn thing….”

He saw John’s face again—wide smile full of good fellowship, eyes sparkling with life—scary motherfucker he was—scary as Angelus. Maybe more. Toss up really. Spike shuddered and lit a cigarette, ignoring the small snort of annoyance.

“So, tell, what was he like?”

“Like? He stank.

I mean, he stank of magic. And blood. First time I got that smell in my nose, I followed him. For most of a night, I trailed him. I was feeling fine, fed and feeling…good, that warm all over bubbly light headed feeling you get when the blood is fresh and hot and… Ah..erm. Sorry. Anyway, since I was in such a good mood, I decided to play a awhile. Usually, like any sane thing, I avoid magic but there was something else here, some sneaky thread of—of-- I don’t know how to say it. It was really the most exciting smell, made me all tingly—all that blood, all different kinds, not just his—that smell, old, old magic, blood, pussy, come—I had to know.

Most humans carry a little of that smell but you have to be close to pick it up. Him? He radiated it for blocks. Even over the smell of London, and believe me, that’s a smell you have to work to ignore…just like New York, it takes a few days to get used to it. Now, Berlin that had a smell total—oh, yeah, sorry, off track, eh…

Anyway that smell of his, it carried. If it hadn’t been for the smell of very scary old magic, he’d have been demon kibble for sure.”

He stopped, looked at Xander and took a long lingering sip from his bottle. Xander made a hand motion for him to continue.

“So, I’m following him like the quiet, deadly, creature of the night I am--his back is turned to me, and I know not a human on the planet, oh *alright*, save a slayer, could have told I was there.

We’d been moving along some dark stretch of mostly abandoned factories and such, not a lot of light, not many people—I’m so fascinated by his smell, I don’t notice he’s been leading me. I followed him into an alleyway, thinking it’s right nice of him to be so accommodating a meal. It’s narrow and dark and it stinks horrible. Some Fionsak demons were nesting in it, gods, they smell—yes, Shaggy, those little shiny buggy ones! Giles would be so proud right now—ow! That did hurt you know…

So, it stinks gods awful, I can barely smell him, and I can’t see him at all- suddenly the Fionsaks all take off, running and squealing, like it’s the end of the world. For one fuckin’ moment all I can smell is demon sh—oh, hell yeah, all at once, they did, he knew damn well they shit when they’re scared. So, can’t see him, can’t smell him and all of a sudden there’s a hand on my neck and a hand on my balls and… I figure I might be in some trouble.

Xander gulped at the image in his mind—Spike pressed against a wall and someone leaning in on him, hands on his—

He shook his head. “‘Nother beer?” he squeaked

Spike grinned. “Hell, yeah! Ah, so… where was I?”

“Balls.” Xander blushed. “I mean walls, *wall*!”

Spike was already gone into memory and didn’t hear Xander’s slip.

“Yeah, like I say, balls in his hand and teeth against my neck and he says all innocent curiosity- like,

‘What the fuck makes you want to commit suicide, vampire?’ and I’m cursing myself not for the last time for being such a nosy git. I try to pull the Heinrich card, childe of Aurelius—blah-blah, and –well, that made an impression all right—got him going, it did. Bastard laughed so hard he snotted on my neck.”

Spike and Xander share and ew ’ moment and a full body shiver of revulsion hit them both.

Spike continued. “I’m trying to get away, pushing back hard as I can, ‘cause that wall *stunk*  and he’s pushing forward and all of a sudden-well. Didn’t want to get away quiet so much, ya?”

“Spike!” Xander stared at the vampire in shock. --No, no, not that in my mind with the pushing and the--  “Are you, you’re saying….”

“Aw, come on! Never?” Spike looked frankly disbelieving.” I mean, look at you! And Larry--”

“Just friends! And—and not even that really—god rest his soul.” Xander looked an uncomfortable mixture of appalled and respectful of the dead.

Spike just grinned. “Anyway—he says to me. ‘It’s your lucky day—night, vamp. S’been ages and I’m feeling…kinda lonely. It just might be fun. Whatdaya think—dust or fuck?’

Well, I’m never stupid, y’know. I’m yanking at my pants button before he’s done speaking. And the smell keeps getting—better. He’s grinding me against the wall and laughing the whole time—his hands off my balls and in my pants and on my dick, which was very happy for the attention--”

Xander squirmed discreetly on the sofa, praying Spike wouldn’t notice. That image was just—interesting.

“So, I’m thinking good thoughts and he’s licking the back of my neck and it feels good—a little too good. Every lick sends an electric bolt right to my dick, and I’m thinking bloody hell when it hits me—he’s licking the fuckin’ claim mark, Angelus’ mark; he knows what it is—and then, fuck me, he bites down on it as hard as a human can bite, and I’m coming like a bitch right there!”

Xander stared at Spike, open mouthed and then breathed out a long shuddery “sheee—it….”

Spike shivered and came back to himself. “Shit indeed!” and shook his head.

Xander was looking at Spike, head tilted, the very picture of puzzlement. “Claim mark? What’s that, Spike? What does it mean--”

“‘Sa vamp thing—Angelus—I’ll explain another day, ok?” Spike said grimly. “That’s a fucking story in itself,” he growled.

--Umm. Good—Xander thought as he tried to ease his growing…discomfort.

“Anyway. He’s a fast one, he is, he’s got his pants open and hanging off his hips and two fingers inside me before I can yell, and my body’s sending ‘fuck off we’re having fun’ notes to my brain. He’s got me on my toes, just using his fingers, twisting and jabbing and rubbing all over me with his other hand, his hot, hot hand, and yes, he’s finding every scar, every bite and digging in. Bastard.

By the time he’s got his dick in, I’m making the most god awful noises you can imagine--”

Xander gasped and his eyelids floated shut, and yes—he *can* imagine….

“Fucked me like never before—humans are ok, but he fucked like a vampire, that one—there was nothing I could do except scream and hump him like a newly former virgin. He’d push that hot, hot dick in and scrape his nails hard across a bite scar, and he’d bite me as he pulled out and it felt like stars ripping down my nerves, it was like suns exploding in my gut—I was beginning to smell my own blood, and I was hard as steel, so hard it hurt and I knew he wasn’t going to let me come--”

He stopped and looked over at Xander. His eyes were closed, he was red all over and breathing hard, his hands folded in his lap. He smelled delicious, hot and full of life. Spike leaned closer and whispered in Xander’s ear.

“His hand came around and grabbed me, every time he pushed in and bit, his hand slid up my dick, up and down till I swear, I cried like a bitch and begged him to bring me off….”

Spike grinned as Xander’ heartbeat ratcheted up and he gently pried the boy’s hands apart and laid them flat against his crotch, moved them slowly until Xander picked up the rhythm on his own, and kept pressing against his erection even when Spike moved his hands away from Xander’s.

Xander thrust against his own hands, and groaned.

“He started to really pound in, and it was like having fire poured in me, it was that hot. My skin was vibrating, from the magic, I guess, I was just—screaming. Screaming and screaming like-like…I just couldn’t shut up.

Then, he stops cold—nothing, and his breath is on my neck, and he says all cool and calm,’ From now on, everyone and everything will know, and the next time you see who ever it was put the claim on you—He’ll know I fucked you, and you loved it.’ And just like that I’m coming, like it was the first time that night, and he’s got me grinding into the wall, growling like a fuckin’ werewolf, like a monster, and he bites down on the claim and I can hear the skin break and smell my blood. He drank it.

When he came, it really did burn, I could feel it all through me, I could feel his dick jerking out pulses of liquid fire as he came in me, and I came again.”

At Xander’s low strangled moan, Spike focused on him and realized what he’s been subliminally aware of all along and smiled as he took in Xander’s eyes, glazed and sated looking- his loose happy smile and the spreading wet spot on his pants. Spike waited for awareness to come pouring back into Xander’s eyes, waited for the horror and embarrassment to settle on his features.

Instead, Xander shocked  the vampire into speechlessness.

He stretched and smiled and unzipped  his pants, pulled  them down as he spoke to Spike.

“Tell me another story Spike, but this time, let’s pull out the bed.” 






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