|
|
|
|
| 9: Creep |
|
|
|
Six in the morning saw
Xander hunched over the toilet bowl, his body enthusiastically ejecting
everything in its digestive system. The
combination of too much booze and a bar meal that had basically consisted of a
plate of grease with a few items of semi-edible meat and potato floating in it
was hardly conducive to a settled stomach, especially when the remainder of the
night’s activities were taken into consideration. In between retches he was thinking, and
frightened to think, about getting here the previous night, couldn’t believe
that he’d driven in that state: somewhere past drunk on his own, conservative, personal
scale, beaten and dazed, worse than semi-blind, it was… “You moan very
prettily.” Xander jumped at the sound of
Spike’s voice. “Shame it’s only about
being hung over, not because I’m sticking cocktails sticks beneath your nails
for waking me up.” “There’s a cure,
right? Nice souly Spike is not here to
gloat, he’s here because there was a miracle cure in the last batch of stuff
Angel sent.” “He’s here to complain
about having his sleep disturbed. And
now you’re up, there’s the shower – take that as an unsubtle hint.” “If I move I’ll barf.” “You’re a never-ending
source of entertainment.” “Leave me alone, Spike,”
Xander groaned as his stomach rumbled in ongoing protest. “My pleasure.” Spike went and threw
himself onto the nearest bed with a satisfied sigh, only to stir moments later
when the muttering from the bathroom increased, Xander protesting about a
spirit’s choice of timing. The vampire
reluctantly dragged himself to his feet and rejoined Xander, moving near enough
to his side to allow the man to lean against his legs, knowing Xander would
want to be as close as possible for the peace. At a stretch Spike could
just reach the glass shelf above the wash basin and, with some difficulty
thanks to Xander’s unconscious decision to let Spike prop him up, managed to
one-handedly grab the tumbler that lived there and fill it with water. “Here.” “Can’t move.” “Sodding hell, Harris,
what do you want me to do? Drink it for
you an’ all?” Xander gave a
sorry-for-himself shrug and Spike very slowly tipped the glass, pouring a thin
stream of cold water over the back of Xander’s head and neck. “Nice,” Xander murmured. More manoeuvring and
Spike refilled the glass, emptied it over Xander’s head and listened to the
water run off into the pan beneath him.
Again, and Xander was taking his own weight, charily turning to sit
against the shower stall and accepting the offer when Spike held out the
once-again full glass, sipping experimentally before drinking the remaining
water down. Twice more and a little
colour was returning to the chalky complexion. “Better?” Spike asked,
sounding stuck between irritation and indulgence. “Thanks.” Spike sank to the floor
in front of Xander, elegantly folding into a cross-legged sit. While Xander stared and wished he could do
anything that gracefully, Spike stared with amusement at the water trickling
from Xander’s hair and face and gradually soaking his shirt. “You’re a wonderfully
coherent drunk,” Spike eventually said. “Adrenalin,” Xander
explained. “Know that one. Certainly recognise the feeling.” “But you’ve still got
some explaining to do.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Just a little. I figure if you start now you should finish
by the time your pension’s due.” Xander
added a new groan to his repertoire. “You
know I want to leave tonight,” Spike reminded him. “Not a chance.” “Bruises or commitments?” “Bruises, definitely
bruises. I’ve done all I can for
Chrissie.” Xander leaned his head back
against the shower stall. “Want to help
me get in here? ‘Cause, legs: yes. Whereabouts I left them: no.” “Let’s get this
straight,” Spike mused. “You want an
admittedly bad, horny demon to strip the clothes from your semi-intoxicated,
defenceless body and help it’s highly appealing naked self under warm water
which will trickle invitingly…” “Nyah!” Xander shuddered. “It’s probably the best
offer you’ll be getting.” “You hate me,” Xander
whined, and the grin finally broke out on Spike’s face. Rising as easily as he’d
sat, Spike ignored Xander’s sudden alarm as he was hefted into the vampire’s
arms, taken back to the bedroom, and carefully lowered onto the bed he’d left
so ignominiously an hour earlier. Spike went
to fetch a towel to put under Xander’s head, then sat beside him and began to
unbutton the damp shirt. Xander’s hands
came up to stop him. “You can’t sleep in
that. You’ll get cold and sick and
probably die, knowing my luck.” “I’ll do it.” “Suit yourself.” Spike stood and began
shedding his own clothes, unselfconsciously bare in less than a minute and
heading for his own bed when he noticed Xander watching with surprisingly
blatant curiosity. He paused, then
pirouetted, waiting for the embarrassed roll away, or the partly amiable but
entirely cutting comment. But… “Was it good?” Xander
asked quietly. “With Buffy?” To say the question was
unexpected would be the grossest understatement; jolted by memories, Spike
ceased his display and hurriedly got under the covers, tugging them up to his
face until all that showed was blond hair and a tellingly creased brow. All of twenty seconds and the covers were
pushed back down. Spike leaned up and
met Xander’s eye. “Physically? Astounding.
Emotionally?” In a brisk move,
Spike was beside Xander, half on him, one bent leg draped over both of Xander’s
and feeling unnervingly familiar. “We
were better. Middle of the night and you
half-conscious and we were better.” “That isn’t possible.” “It’s what you said, Xander. Not using. Needing. It excites me. Being needed.” “She needed you. Right then, I know she did.” “Used. Believe me, I know, I was there. And you… Maybe you’re a little embarrassed, a little intimidated, but you’re not disgusted by being this close to me, are you? Or are you?” “You know I’m not.” “And I can feel the difference.” “After the soul, she was looking out for you.” “Fits and starts, suiting herself. Did you hear the way she talked to me sometimes? Like I was a fucking minion she could—” Spike bit his lip, tried to be reasonable. “Sorry. You don’t want to listen to me slagging off your friend.” “If she was using you, how am I any different? You said it yourself, Spike.” “When I was angry. I’m not angry now. You’re nothing like her, like anyone who’s been take, take, take.” “I hope not.” “And you’ve never exploded my car,” Spike sighed in fake adoration, determined to lighten the moment, satisfied with the smile he received in response. Xander appreciated the
humour, but his ongoing problem seemed to be his hands as he tried to locate
somewhere to touch the vampire in a way that suggested friendship rather than
many minutes of intense frottage, but all he kept finding was naked flesh that
stirred unwanted feelings liberated by the vampire’s unlikely shows of
consideration and the high percentage of alcohol remaining in his own
bloodstream. Spike was searching his
face for…something. Or possibly just
checking the mess he was in this morning, one or the other. But the mess wouldn’t explain why the hungry
gaze kept flickering down to Xander’s mouth, or why the vampire’s lips were
parting, head dipping as he moved in for a kiss. Xander forced himself to turn away. “Hey, c’mon, you can’t
want this,” Xander insisted, shivering as the cool mouth diverted to his
exposed neck. “I’m all…” Spike’s hand cupped his groin, gently
squeezed an offer. “Oh, God. Aches.
I’m all aches and cuts and bruises; you said I need a shower.” “You’re getting hard for
me.” “I know. I know that.
I… Spike.” The ‘Spike’ sounded as if
it might be something more than stonewalling; Spike’s hand withdrew and he
backed off slightly. “What?” Xander swallowed hard, wondering whether he
could get away with cheating, playing the rather belated and demonstrably
implausible entirely-straight card, in fact any card from the suite of
avoidance rather than having to be honest.
“Xander?” No. No lies.
In light of the conversation of moments before, they both deserved
better. “This… This
would be me using you. If anything
happened now I’d be using you. Not
needing.” A moment’s hesitation and
Spike was at Xander’s neck again, tasting and teasing. “How about…wanting?” “Using.” Xander carefully turned his head back,
nudging Spike away so he could meet his eyes.
“I won’t do that to you. Or me.” Unreadable emotions
glimmered in the blue before Spike gave Xander a sexy smile that felt very
false, however well it was played. “I’m bloody horny, Pet,
I’d settle.” “There’s always an after,
though. How we’ll feel after. And working together is already hard
enough. So…no.” Nothing. Then Spike twisted and wriggled, shoved
Xander’s arm out of the way, getting comfortable with his head on Xander’s
shoulder, body wrapped around the human’s and, with prods and adroit
manoeuvring, encouraging Xander to hold him. “I’m pretending you’re
not using me because you genuinely care,”
Spike muttered crossly as Xander, sexual shenanigans successfully averted,
began to automatically and guiltlessly stroke wherever his hands rested. “All bollocks but here we are, cosy
and…and… You’re still damp. Git.
Could’ve got your shirt off before it threatened to ruin my hair.” Spike roughly jostled himself impossibly
closer, tense under the mindlessly caressing hands. “Not only will I wake up looking like Shirley
Temple, we’ll be bound together by the carpet of moss that mysteriously
infested your waterlogged grunge-wear, so much so that you have to change your
name to peat.” “You’re crazy,” Xander
yawned. “Frustration sends me
mad.” “That explains a lot.” “Still doesn’t explain
why you though, does it?” “Mr Convenience?” Xander
suggested after a moment’s depressing thought. “Yeah. That’d be it.” Xander felt Spike relax, suddenly as
loose-limbed as a cat, and the weight on him doubled. Comfortably.
And with Spike this close the quiet was very…quiet. “That’d be it,” Spike repeated softly, and
the hand resting on Xander’s chest began to touch rhythmically, initially in
time with Xander’s movements, then in time with the tune in Spike’s head. “What is that?” Xander
asked ten minutes later, having almost been lulled to sleep but ultimately
brought back from the brink by Spike’s low humming. “Still sick of the sound
of my voice?” “Guess not.” Xander eeped as Spike
sprang up to his hands and knees, crouching over Xander’s body and staring intently
into the sleepy brown eye. “‘I don't care if it hurts’,” Spike sang as he rocked slowly from side to
side. “‘I want to have control. I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul.’” “Uh-huh.” “‘I want you to notice, when I'm not around. You're so fucking special. I wish I was special.’” Spike dipped and nuzzled Xander’s cheek, dropping his voice to a
tuneful whisper. “‘But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here?’” He pushed up, sat back, settled into the curve of Xander’s hips. “‘I don't belong here.’” It may have felt like a long time – the exchanged look drawn out and
firmly shuttered – but it was a minute at most and then Spike was off, diving
under the covers of his own bed, back turned on Xander. “If I see Toby again I might have to kill the bastard child,” he told
Xander reasonably. “We need to talk about that,” Xander told him, trying to sound firm but
feeling weak and queasy, uncomfortable in both his skin and his clothes. “Don’t hurt him.” He rose cautiously, and with measured movements stripped down to t and
boxers. Apparently there was no immediate
danger of his internal organs rearranging themselves, and his legs were reassuringly
where he usually kept them. He thought about another drink of water. He thought about sleep. Peace.
He thought about Spike killing Toby and weaved around to the vampire’s
bed, clumsily getting in and cuddling up; an arm around Spike’s waist and
Spike’s hand sluggishly moved to link their fingers. Xander imagined he was keeping Toby safe, and
let himself fall asleep. … “I think it’s time for
some of that explaining you keep promising but never deliver.” Xander stopped eating and
looked at Spike’s reasonable
face. It wasn’t one of his better ones
due to the twitching in his clenched jaw which belied the whole premise of
reasonability. Xander guessed this face
wasn’t one Spike practised much. Or
possibly at all if he could help it. Twitch. Talking not thinking. “Where would you like to
start?” Spike drew breath to
speak but hesitated for a moment. “I d’know. There’s so much I want to give you a hard
time about, I’m spoilt for choice.” Xander painfully
swallowed down the last painfully chewed mouthful of pizza and, with a painful
grimace, mentally bemoaned the consequences of getting into drunken
brawls. Painful ones. “I’m so outta
practise. The whole getting beaten about
the head thing, it’s for reckless youth.
And vampires, naturally.” “Start there.” “The whole getting
beaten…” Spike nodded. “I left you, drove for a while…” “Going home?” “I may have
coincidentally driven in that direction,” Xander admitted, finding his soda can
too irresistible to look away from, suspecting Spike was wearing the
exceedingly well practised ‘once you’ve saved the world I’ll kill you’
face. “But I turned around. Came back.
Found a bar and… All I wanted was
a quiet beer, time to think, and I was minding my own business…” “Toby came looking for you?” “No.” “You said…” “This guy comes over to
me, and the minute he starts with ‘Toby said’ I knew I was in trouble. And several drinks earlier I’d’ve just got
out of there, but… I was so annoyed with
you…” “How does this get to be
my fault?” “Not your fault, but
feeling like that I really didn’t have anywhere to go.” “What had Toby said?” Xander gave a pained
smile. Painfully. “He’s been telling people
that he’s scared of me. Trying to
convince them that the only way I could possibly know the stuff I know…” “Is if you’d killed “I tried to be reasonable
with this guy, explain what it is that I do, how exactly I know what I know. He wanted me to prove it, tell him something,
but all I had was a blur of so many voices I couldn’t pick out any single one
that was for him. No focus, no
control. Don’t let me drink again, will
you? Before the big day. ‘Cause…”
Xander stopped and sighed, bringing up his hands to tentatively feel the
damage to his face, concentrating on the area around his remaining eye. “I’m lucky I didn’t get a black eye, that
would have been scary.” “After you couldn’t prove
what you do?” “I was drunk, and the
stupid smart mouth came into play. You
have to remember how successful that used to be.” “What did you say?” Spike
asked, already grinning. “That none of his
relatives could bear to speak to him but the family dog wanted to talk about
their first time together.” Spike
laughed and Xander wished it didn’t hurt to join in. “I’m lucky I got out of there in one piece. But I did.
And got followed to my car and…this happened. I guess I’m also lucky that the guy and his
pal were drunker than I was by then.” “Just the two of them?” “Why? Do I look like I took on the local football
team? No way I’m going near a mirror.” “You’re all right,” Spike
told him, deliberately sounding as if he was lying and glad of Xander’s
reticence over the mirror: this way he didn’t have to explain the rapid healing
and get into that whole vampire saliva thing that humans generally found so
distasteful. “I’ve seen worse. And purple suits you. And blue.
And red. And yellow.” “Yellow?” Xander’s hand
shot back to his face. “The last of…y’know…” “Where you hit me. Does my bruise have a bruise? Ow. Owowow.” Spike leaned across the
bed and stopped Xander prodding his mottled jaw. “However mad I make you,
you don’t do this again. No walking off
and getting yourself into who knows what trouble.” “No. Next time I stick around and take a swing at
you instead.” “You can do that. If we’re not allowed to fuck I’ll settle for
a fight.” “What the hell is all
that about, Spike? Sex? Us?
It’s bizarre.” Spike hmmed and scratched
his head. “I think it’s
proximity. I haven’t let myself get
close to anyone for a long time, it’s usually such a disaster…” “And that tells you nothing about the possibilities here?” “I know, I know, you
don’t have to warn me. But we sleep
together and… It’s the nature of the
demon, always wanting more. But…no
longer allowed to try…taking more,” Spike finished stiltedly. “You’re quite safe.” Xander nodded. “You mean that? Yes, you know you’re safe? Or is that ‘I hear what you say’?” “I’m safe,” Xander said
after a brief pause for thought. “That’s… I probably don’t deserve that. In fact…I know I don’t.” “Okay, there are…things,
in the past…” Spike gave an amused snort
and rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with crossed arms. “What?” “The past,” Spike said
sourly. “The present. If you knew how I…” Spike fell silent and
Xander waited a while before clearing away the pizza boxes and soda cans,
fetching fresh drinks and wandering around the room to try and loosen up his
stiff muscles. “Okay,” Spike said
suddenly, grabbing Xander’s attention.
“Memo to Angel…” Spike began, and Xander grinned as he strolled. “What’s to tell you about Xander Harris? He’s grown up well. Very nice bloke all
round. Flashes of the old Harris temper,
but mostly it’s under control ‘cause he needs peace aside from the voices. He’s generally happy with his lot, but he
wouldn’t deny that he’s troubled: starting this skill of his so late in life
has left him with problems, and I try to sympathise but… I’m too fascinated by him when he’s in that
mode to feign pity for long, and it’s only a matter of time before he catches
me out.” The remnants of Xander’s fading
smile were lost to the rapidly growing discomfort at what he was hearing. “I watch him work and I want to claim him,
possess him, rip the throats out of anyone who dares come close to him. He makes me feel special because I can help
him in a way no-one else can and, when he turns to me, to the demon, for solace,
it’s…a thrill. The demon has accepted
and connected and I want him, I
want… I want to fuck him senseless,
which you’ll have figured out by now.” “No, Spike,” Xander
wasn’t aware of saying, a low, troubled murmur that even the vampire’s sharp
hearing missed. Motionless now, leaning
heavily against the bathroom doorframe and trying not to believe his ears. “Lovely face, even when
it’s black and blue; sturdy, resilient body.
Beautiful arse, trim from all that bloody walking, but round enough to
make the most reasonable bloke want to sink his teeth in deep. And I shouldn’t be paying attention to any of
that ‘cause this is a job, it’s work, and he’s…
Fuck, he can be so vulnerable, that big heart of his, and I’ve exploited
my kind, concerned, supportive bullshit persona to the full and Xander’s fallen
for it, distractedly and sweetly. I’m
taking advantage of his good nature, I know, from making him take on this job,
which he’s justifiably afraid of, to sharing his body heat and more at
nights. When he figures it out this
face’ll be more of a mess than his, ‘cause when that temper flares he’s still
handy with his fists and I’ll not put up a fight. “Is this just me wanting what I shouldn’t be able to have? As stupid and juvenile as that? I blame it on the demon, keep thinking the demon wants him, but I’m the demon, and I want him, shouldn’t even try to hide behind that. I s’pose I could pretend to be an unsuspecting victim of fate, carry on exploiting his good nature, tell him that these feelings have only just hit me like a bolt from the blue. But I have to be honest; I want to be honest. Somehow…somehow I knew. The minute he started to sing in that shit-hole of a room at his chapel, I knew he’d turn my world upside down. “Is this how you felt
about Dru? Were you captivated by her
innocence, her skill, her…abnormality?
Did you start to get hard every time her misery threatened to break her
up, ‘cause when I see a man as tough as Xander brought to his knees by a force
I can’t even sense…” Spike’s attention
wandered momentarily to his sire, his lost love. Remembering the nonsense she’d come out with,
worse than any of Xander’s ramblings.
He’d been ferocious in his need to protect her and he’d missed the duty
when it was gone, in fact he’d never felt quite right since. Maybe Xander was a replacement? That would explain a lot. A lot but not all. Xander watched the internal
deliberations, somehow convinced himself not to panic, made himself move. “Spike?” Spike felt Xander sit
back down, no further away than where he’d been before. Brave enough to listen to this, to this demon
wanting him, not running to find a place to hide. “Of course I can’t
dismiss the demon’s inherent desire to dominate the only other strong male in
the immediate vicinity.” Spike dropped
his arms, looked to Xander, who in turn was watching with an expression of
horrified interest. “Master vampires
fight rivals as a matter of course, you know that, learnt that from the
watcher?” “Yeah.” “The winner has the right
to take it all: standing, possessions, consorts, minions, mouth, cunt and/or
arse; heart, if necessary.” Spike’s fist
reflexively clenched tight. “In the past
I haven’t hesitated to exert my authority with a little brute force and, quite
possibly…” The arms came back up to hide
Spike’s face and he returned to his memo to Angel. “Quite possibly there’s an extremely watered
down version of that happening here.
With Xander so distraught, the demon has accepted our fumbling in the
dark as the submission of the opposing male and been satisfied. Or…”
The matter-of-fact, lecturing tone softened into the voice Xander was
growing more familiar with, one that he associated with darkness and comfort
and quiet. “Maybe… I’ve changed, and Xander has changed, and the
combination of those changes leaves me…wanting him. I do want him. Xander, who is both freak and consolation. Damaged.
Hardy. Irritating.
And…delicate. Unconsciously sexy;
unlikely he’ll take my interest in him seriously before he’s flat on his back
and I’m buried balls deep. Except…”
Spike sighed, “contact is almost accidental, beyond our night time regime he
won’t be touched with any feeling outside of his panics, and…he won’t kiss
me. Let me kiss him. A few kisses and I could win him over but
even when he’s giving in to lust he won’t give in to me.” In one of the sharp moves
that Xander found so disorientating, Spike was up and sitting opposite him,
trailing his fingertips over the un-bruised cheek. “I’m sorry, Xander.” “I…I don’t know what to
say.” Spike focused on the dark
eye that was understandably filled with confusion. “He won’t let himself
become attached. He can’t afford to like
me any better,” Spike whispered. “He
needs me. He won’t let himself use
me. He doesn’t. Want.
Me.” The focus shifted to
Xander’s mouth, and Xander moved just out of reach as Spike tried, once again,
to kiss him. Spike chuckled to himself
and kissed Xander’s cheek instead, before standing and reaching for his coat,
shrugging it on. “Where are you going?” “Out.” “Because of this?” “No, Pet, not the biggest deal, is it? I’m crazy enough to want someone who doesn’t want me. Nothing new there.” “Everything you said… It isn’t just about being wanted. Or not wanted.” “Don’t fool yourself.” “Even if it is, this
isn’t like you and Dru, or Buffy. You
don’t love me, it’s – it’s…like you said.
Proximity. The demon reacting.” “That’s right. Don’t worry, I’ll get over it. Just talking about it has made me see how
ridiculous the idea is.” “Then why are you
leaving?” “I need to see a boy
about an axe.” That jolted Xander out of
his shocked state; he leapt up as quickly as his aches would allow, grabbed
Spike’s coat and hung on. “You’re not going
anywhere until I explain a few things.” Spike wrapped his hands
around Xander’s. “That bastard is going to
get a little of what he deserves.” “Please, Spike, sit down
and listen, please?” Spike considered. “Does that work both
ways? Will you listen too? Because if you won’t I have no choice but to
deal with matters my own way.” “I’ll listen, I
promise.” Xander tried to pull Spike
back into the room, and felt the resistance.
“Please, Spike. I promise.” The resistance dissolved and Spike let
himself be drawn along. “It’s difficult
because I have to make decisions based on what I know and… That’s part of the point, isn’t it? Sharing with you, not being the only one who
knows what’s going on.” “Yes.” “I can do that, I’ll get
used to it. Eventually.” Xander sat Spike down, in one of the chairs
rather than on the bed, because… ‘I want to fuck him senseless.’ …it seemed more businesslike. And this was business. Xander opened his mouth to launch into his
explanation of the events surrounding “No. I was reporting back to Angel. That’s how I report back to Angel, sweeping
monochrome statements that he takes with a pinch of salt.” “Last night you had me
fooled. Completely. Even if I’d been sober I think I’d’ve
believed anything you told me.” “Because you’d be right
to. Good instincts.” “But…” “I’m in there. That persona.
Just felt shit about using the pumped up mode on you.” “Okay. I get that.
And I guess it worked, so from your point of view, job well done.” Xander couldn’t keep the
edge out of his voice, and Spike made the only offer he could. “You want me to hand over
to Angel?” “Hey, freaked, not
insane. And – and…moving on now. “Xander…” “ “Yes. All right.
“Toby…” “Is a killer.” “No. No, Spike, he isn’t. Toby didn’t kill “The axe was falling,
Xander, I—” Spike did a double take. “He didn’t kill “He didn’t kill his
brother.” Spike blinked. Rewound.
Replayed. “Toby didn’t kill Xander paused as he
recalled the boy’s – both boys’ –
distress. “His father.” Spike burrowed into his
pocket and pulled out the photograph he’d picked up prior to rescuing Xander
the previous day, smoothing out the creases and staring at the family again,
trying to figure out how he’d missed the pertinent dynamics. Toby glaring at “Who was taking this photo?” “Toby’s girlfriend.” “And Dad really shouldn’t
be looking at her like that, should he?” Xander shook his head
again and went back to wandering, unreasonably glad that after his shower he’d
put on baggy old sweats that made his backside look as if it was unappealingly
hanging halfway down his thighs. “The day that “That his dad will come
back?” Xander slowly shook his
head. “That he won’t.” Xander crossed and took the photograph from
Spike, studying the family group, weighed down with sorrow at the fate that was
to befall them. “Talking to Chrissie,
she makes excuses for him shooting through, the fact he couldn’t cope with “You think she knows?” “Suspects. About the girl. About her husband.” Xander sank onto his bed. “That poor boy. What a mess.
I’m assuming the father did this in a panic, because he was scared of
losing his wife. Instead… He lost everything.” Xander put the picture aside and rested his
elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
“Sometimes I think I’ll never understand people.” “Toby was going to kill
you to cover this up?” “I thought about it when
I was out driving yesterday.” Head up,
Xander closed his eye and went through the motions. “I was sitting on the bench, and I kind
of…felt Toby move. When I looked around
I saw the side of the axe-head. Maybe he would have liked to hurt me for
hurting him, but he didn’t seem capable of it.
I don’t know whether he wanted to frighten me, or if he was just taking
his rage out on the bench, but he wasn’t aiming for me.” Xander slumped again, staring at the
floor. “He wants me out of here,
obviously, he’s trying to protect what’s left of his family, which is why he
told the guys I met in the bar what he did.
Kind of spiteful thing a kid does when he’s feeling helpless.” “Xander?” Xander looked up and Spike took his time
standing and moving to sit beside him, deliberately being as non-threatening as
possible. “You okay? I don’t know how close you get to the people
you’re listening to, but this must be hard on you. You lived through that boy’s death.” “I— I have to ask… Are you still playing me? What was it?
Feigning pity?” Spike took a deep breath
and released it slowly. “I don’t know why I said
any of that.” “You were trying to make
sense of the fact you want to fuck Xander Harris senseless, and it turns out
that it’s just ‘cause he’s a freak.” “I was trying to be
honest. Not always the smartest move, I
know, but you like honest, and…sometimes I just can’t help myself.” Xander took a good look
at the miserable face. “How comes it’s you
feeling sorry for yourself?” “I’m not. And I’m not trying to scare you or… Have I hurt you?” “I don’t know about
that. I’m…stunned…and…and…yes, I’m
scared. Scared to even consider what it
means if a demon thinks it owns me.” “No, not owns. Wants to.” “And that split hair
makes a difference? I understand you
being interested by what I can do, a lot of people are, but… You’re right, I have changed, but I’m still
me, and you can’t want me, and that leaves me concerned by…I d’know…who you
think I am.” “Why can’t I want you?” “Spike,” Xander spelt
out. “Xander. Spike and Xander? C’mon…Spike
and Xander?” “I’m not fussed how it
looks when you write your Christmas cards, mate, I simply… Oh, fucking hell.” Spike rose and headed back to the door. “Forget every word I said. It’s sex, just sex. You’re close, you’re available – or should be
– and you let it happen a couple of times, you pretty much admitted that you
enjoyed it. You let me close, lead me on
until I want to get off, and now you’re playing hard to get…” “That is not what I’m
doing!” Xander protested, starting to follow Spike but reversing quickly away
when the vampire turned on him. “What then?” “I told you. And I know you listened because you were
quoting it back at me. I can’t afford to
get involved.” “Just. Sex.” “I don’t do just sex.” “No? Realise what you’re saying, do you? About our little fumbles?” “I wasn’t leading you on,
it’s been about the quiet, the… I
wouldn’t have let it happen under normal circumstances.” “Normal circumstances,”
Spike repeated contemptuously. “A
backwater existence that you barely share with your colourless friends, stagnating
in your empty house with your empty heart and your empty future. Nothing more going for you than the voices in
your head and the losers in the auditorium, and you think that’s living. No wonder you’re on your own, you think
anyone would want more than sex from you with that attitude?” Now that did hurt; Spike saw it immediately and
as quickly wished he could shut up and stop baiting Xander, taking his
frustration out on him. A punch would
have been a happy resolution here, and he’d have let Xander off with it, but
no. The anger that followed the hurt was
deliberately, visibly switched off and Xander…did the usual. Rummaged in his bag for his book, took a
little longer than normal to get comfortable on the bed, then studied the latest
puzzle. “Going out then?” he
asked without a glance in Spike’s direction. “Yeah.” “If you see Toby, leave
him alone. Or Chrissie. Leave them both alone.” Spike hurried over,
snatching the book away, seeing the anger rise for the briefest moment before
Xander battled it down, back to neutral. “Deny it,” Spike
challenged. “Deny that there’s a spark
inside you that glows at the thought of being wanted.” “You don’t want me. You want a fuck. And Mr Convenience isn’t living up to his
name.” “Deny it.” “Because, if this were
the other way around, you’d really want you, wouldn’t you? Spike: what a catch! Irresistible, with those incredibly seductive
allusions to violence and rape, expecting me to feel grateful you haven’t
used those techniques on me. And should
I be adding yet?” “That is not me, that’s
what I fight. It’s not me.” “Not…! Have you listened to yourself? I know you, Spike.” “You knew me. That is not me.” “Don’t you just hate
people who refuse to be honest with themselves?” “Fuck you!” Spike spat as
he flung the book down and wheeled away. “Yeah, right, fuck you
too,” Xander flatly dismissed him as he reclaimed his property and turned to
the page he’d been about to work on. Still never managing the
grand exit, Spike spun back. Waited silently
for so long that Xander couldn’t resist looking up from his puzzle. “I’d let you,” Spike
admitted, voice gentle in contrast to the former coarse protestations. “Fuck me.
Is that what you want, Xander?” Xander’s stared at Spike
in shock, face paling. After a few numb
seconds he thought to shake his head. “Go away,” he added
quietly. The curious emptiness on
Spike’s face remained as he gave a shallow nod. “Don’t leave while I’m
gone.” Xander’s fingers
tightened tellingly around his pen; he couldn’t believe that Spike had read him
so easily. “No,” he answered in that
same disinterested tone, “I won’t. I’ll
do what I said I would. As foreign a
concept as I’m sure you find it, one of us has been entirely genuine.” Xander twisted to his
right to pick up his soda; when he turned back, the vampire was gone. … When Spike returned
several hours later he half expected the room to be empty, Xander long gone,
but there he was, virtually where Spike had left him, looking as if he’d fallen
asleep mid-puzzle. Still fully dressed,
was duly noted, and maybe that was more about his state of mind after Spike’s
comments than not being bothered to get into bed. Spike watched the
twitches and flicks as Xander dealt with the voices, even in sleep, and his
first instinct was to join him, cuddle up and steal some heat, offer some
peace. Because of Xander’s accusations
he felt obliged to question his motives and found them surprisingly pure, not
that Xander would believe it. Why were
humans always such a pain when you were honest about your feelings? Another vampire would accept – expect – this level of interest. Dru had relished her childe’s worshipful
adoration and never questioned his integrity for a second. Xander muttered, twisted,
slapped a hand over his ear. Resigning
himself to ‘fuck off’, Spike discarded his coat and climbed onto the bed behind
the human, moving close enough to scare off the spirits, leaving enough of a
gap to hopefully not do the same with Xander.
The effect was as expected and predictably satisfying, Xander’s body
becoming limp with sleep, but unfortunately rolling back to fill the space that
Spike had conscientiously left. “Bloody charming, that
is, Harris. I’ll be the one getting the
blame if…” The relaxation was extremely short lived, Xander immediately responding to his carelessly spoken thoughts, waking fast if the accelerated heartbeat was any indication. And Spike knew he was in trouble unless Xander had reconsidered and focused on the positives and…and…who was he trying to fool? But Xander was shifting
in the vampire’s direction and Spike couldn’t help hoping, accommodating the man’s shuffled turn before freezing as a
sharp wooden point dug into his rib cage. “Hey, Baby,” Xander said
coldly. “How was your evening?” Spike contained the
knee-jerk reaction that would have seen Xander being launched across the room
and began to ease himself away. “You don’t need that.” Xander went with him and
Spike flinched, able to smell the blood that oozed from the wound as the stake
embedded itself a little more deeply. “You think I’d do it?”
Xander asked, almost taunted. “No,” came the automatic response, but then, after a few seconds of rampaging doubt, “I don’t know.” “You don’t know.” The stake was slowly twisted and Spike flinched as the point screwed itself a little further into the flesh. “You just don’t know.” “I said, didn’t I?” “And that’s exactly how I
feel about the possibility of you hurting me.
First instinct says no, but…I don’t know, Spike. I don’t
know.” Xander backed off, removed the
stake with some care then threw it away, disgust contorting his face. He’d left supplies alongside the bed and
grabbed them up, yanking Spike’s t-shirt out of his jeans and pressing a pad he’d
quickly soaked in disinfectant to the bloody puncture. “I’m supposed to trust you. How can that happen if I don’t feel safe with
you?” “You are safe.” “The demon – you – think you own me, you want to fuck
me senseless, how can I…” “Being fucked senseless
isn’t a threat. I didn’t mean it
aggressively.” “I know what you are, I
know what you’re capable of. Not
aggressively for you probably means I get to live through it. At least for as long as I’m useful.” “Senseless with pleasure,
that’s how I’d want you. I have this
mental picture of you—” Spike sucked in
a breath as Xander jabbed harshly at the wound, liberating the cotton pad from
him… “You mind? I don’t think I can take much more of your
loving care.” …and tending to himself. “Why did you have to say
that stuff? We were okay and now…now I
have no idea what we are.” “I wanted you to know
exactly where I’m coming from. Can’t
believe I thought it at the time, but there was always a slim chance you’d be
interested. That’s how it works with
demons, consensually: cards on the table, no misunderstandings…” “But I’m not— Ah, no, Spike, no. What happened tonight?”
Xander abruptly demanded, taking up Spike’s hand and holding it closer to the
lamp. The knuckles were in the midst of
recovering from severe bruising. “What
happened, what did you do?” “Don’t panic, it wasn’t
the boy. I caught up with the blokes who
hurt you.” “I said not to.” “You think I care what you said?” “What did you do to them? Did you ki— Did you bite them?” “D’know. How mad will you be if I say yes?” “Mad.” “Then I didn’t bite them.” “Oh, fuck, you bit them,” Xander groaned. “No.” “No? So… Oh, I get it, you bit one of them.” “The exceedingly drunk, exceedingly clumsy one might have tripped and accidentally landed on my fangs, yes.” “Did you… Spike…” Xander took a deep breath. “Spike, did you kill him?” “Hardly going to risk heaven for that scum, am I?” “I’m serious. Why…” “Not another sodding
lecture! How about we say it wasn’t for
you? It was a preventative measure to
stop them behaving the same way with the next bozo who bounces into town and
doesn’t fit.” Xander thought, thought
some more, thought of those bastards giving him a hard time in the bar and… “Okay.” “Say it without the
scowl.” “Okay,” Xander repeated
when he’d managed to un-scowl. “Like that, don’t you?” Spike grinned. “Not the excuse, the beating. After all, they’re only about as sore as you were last night, didn’t kill ‘em, did I? Nothing wrong in you appreciating a little street justice.” Xander rolled away, appalled at being overly pleased with Spike’s actions, grumpily pretending
that he thought himself so much better than that. “Okay if it wasn’t for
me.” Spike snickered and
Xander unsuccessfully willed himself asleep. “Can I stay here? If I don’t bleed on you?” Spike asked as he
tossed the bloody pad over his shoulder and wriggled closer to his charge without waiting
for an answer. “That whole exercise was
wasted on you, wasn’t it?” “No. You think you’re safe but you’re not sure. That was before you knew I played your personal avenging angel and spread those blokes’ faces all over the pavement.” “Spike,” Xander groaned. “Not for me.” “For you, a gift, and it’s my pleasure to give it. Stop your hypocritical whingeing and enjoy it
too.” “No.” “You love it.” “No.” Spike tugged an
unresisting Xander to his chest and buried his face in the untidy hair. “You bloody love it.”
|
|
|
|
|
| Site Updates Update List Home Fiction Gallery Links Feedback |
