“Mine,” Xander gasped as he sank onto the vampire, grateful that he didn’t have to worry about the person beneath him being able to breathe.  “Consider yourself claimed.  Oh…wow.  Fucking hell.”  Spike let out a chuckle.  Once, twice, then he started to laugh.  “That better not be at my expense, pal,” Xander warned wearily, pushing himself up onto his elbows so he could see the vampire, unable to stop the smile that crept over his features at the sight of his partner’s happiness.

“You are the most extraordinary person, Xander Harris,” Spike said as the laughter died down, taking Xander’s face in his hands, wiping away the remains of tears with his thumbs.  “Extraordinary.”  He ran his fingers into Xander’s hair, enjoying the heat and sweat.  “How was it?”

“Terrible.  Wonderful.  Don’t ever make me hurt you again, not like that, I can’t…”

Spike pulled Xander’s head down, covering his mouth with a loving kiss.

“Shh, shh, shh.  I want to tell you something.”

“Let me just…”  Xander charily pulled out of Spike, glancing down and seeing far too much blood, falling onto his back clear of the vampire and covering his face with his hands.  “Oh, no.  Oh, no.  Oh, God.”

“To be expected, love.  Got turned as a virgin and…”

“I did that to you.”

“Yes, you did.  And I’ll always be grateful.”  Spike laid over Xander, hands crossed on the heaving chest, chin resting on his knuckles, comically rising and falling with each breath.  “Hear that, whelp?  A grateful vampire.  Wonders’ll never cease,” Spike teased, using a name Xander hadn’t heard for a very long time.

“Don’t.  Joke.”

“Right.  I won’t joke.”  Spike waited in silence for Xander to calm a little before speaking again.  “You made a speech not so long ago about the way I treated you, and you were upset with me, and I understood why.  You told me you demanded respect, gave the impression that you thought I had none for you.  I wanted to tell you that I have more respect for you than I’ve ever had for anyone.  Maybe that doesn’t say enough because, let’s face it, respect isn’t a massive component of my repertoire.  Cut to the chase, shall I?  Xander, I do respect you, and you’ve earned it.  You’re strong and compassionate and intelligent and brave.  I respect you and I’m sorry if I made you think any differently.”

“Sounds like there should be a but.  Or is this the speech you give me before you leave me for a lap dancer?”

“Who’s joking now?  Should have included that.  Strong, compassionate, intelligent, brave, funny…  Gorgeous.  Sexy.  So bloody sexy.”

“If you can avoid the use of blood and sex in the same sentence right now I’d appreciate it.”  Spike let Xander brush him off as he sat up.  “I have to shower.  You too.”

Once under the hot water Xander began to let the bad feelings go.  Spike refused to let him wash himself, and quickly rid them both of every trace of blood before trapping Xander against the shower wall with his body, nuzzling the human’s neck and grinding their groins together.

“You fucked me, Xan,” Spike whispered.  “You had me.  After so long.  So long wanting.  You fucked me and then some.  Give me a day to heal and I’ll be looking to make up for lost time.”

“Was it…was it good?”

“Unbelievably.  Just thinking about it makes me want you in me again.”

“Not until you heal.”

“I know, I know.  But you were so – I d’know – powerful.  So…so very…  Oh, bloody hell,” Spike groaned, lunging at Xander’s mouth, exploring with his tongue while his hands returned to an equally thorough exploration of the wet, naked body he was rubbing his hardening length against.  Feeling a corresponding interest from Xander, his hand pushed between them, taking a firm hold of both their erections, crushing them together as he began to stroke.  His grip loosened as he felt Xander jump.

“I’m a bit sore.  You were really tight, and the way you wanted it…”

“Sorry, love.  Sorry.  Let me kiss you better, eh?”

And Spike sank to his knees before Xander could catch hold of him, immediately running his lips along the underside of Xander’s tender cock, up and down, up and taking it into his mouth, soothing the hot flesh with his natural coolness.

“Whoa!”  Spike came to an instant halt and looked up at Xander with concern.  “No, no, not whoa, stop, more whoa, impressed.”  Their eyes met and locked, and Xander wondered how in hell Spike could still manage to look so innocent with a cock in his mouth: his cock.  The vampire’s sharp tongue flickered provocatively and it was all Xander could do not to grab that head and make it move on him, but Spike knew, took Xander’s hands and put them on his wet hair before swallowing the human’s cock whole, creating a punishing vacuum as he drew back.  Xander moaned and thrust, hearing – feeling – Spike’s groan of satisfaction, and tightened his grip on the soaking blond locks as he ardently fucked the face he loved.

“I can really do this?” he gasped, pausing in his movements.  “Without hurting you?”  Spike nodded, grabbed Xander’s hips and brought him slamming forward.  It was all so arousing that Xander was fighting his orgasm within seconds, attempting to slow down but not being allowed that option by the vampire.  One hand dropped away and the movement of the slender body made it plain where it had gone.  That was it: knowing Spike was jerking off while being used this way sent Xander tumbling over the edge and he came hard, mindlessly crying out to his partner, only kept on his feet by a strong arm encircling his hips and holding him up.  Seconds later Spike released the spent cock and leant his face against Xander’s stomach, nestling into the flesh as he shuddered into his own climax.

They were quite still for several minutes, but for the gentle motion of Xander’s fingers carding through Spike’s hair.  Then Spike kissed his way up the solid body until he was latching onto the welcoming mouth.

“That’s an extremely fine appendage you have there, Harris,” Spike grinned, adopting his best Knightsbridge accent.

“Yours to enjoy.”

“I’ve been waiting eight years to do that.”

The accent was back to normal but Xander didn’t pay it much heed as he was drawn to the bite mark he’d made at the base of Spike’s neck, virtually in the same place as the one from a few days ago.  He licked the damaged skin and felt the vampire shiver.

“Will this scar?”

“Maybe, if you keep doing it, stop it healing properly.”

“Can I?”

Spike leant back so he could look into Xander’s eyes, and he saw a darkness in the depths that he didn’t remember from years ago.  He couldn’t help but wonder if their separation had driven the human to madness and back.

“You really want to?”

“Don’t you?”

And Xander turned his head, offering the vampire his neck.  The gesture shook Spike in a way he didn’t think was possible.

“Can’t, Xan.  The chip,” he explained with a dry mouth.

“You reopened the cut on my arm with your fangs.  So we know the chip doesn’t go off if it’s what I want you to do.  If there’s no question of you forcing me…”

Spike could hear the blood rushing through Xander’s veins, could smell it, wanted to taste, to drink.  The force of it called to him, taunted him, and here was his beloved Xander, offering himself as a sacrifice.

“Don’t.  It’s not safe.”

“Would you drain me, Spike?”

The head turned, the piercing eyes fixed on him.  They’d have seen into Spike’s soul if he had one.

“Not deliberately.”  That much was true.  But it didn’t stop him being a vampire, wanting to obey his instincts, and instincts didn’t come much stronger than blood-lust.

Xander ran his hands over Spike’s torso and arms before pulling the vampire into a close embrace that he felt eerily trapped by.

“Would you turn me?” ghosted over his ear.

“No.”  Spike fought down the rising panic.  “Turning you would mean losing you.”

“You think?”

“I don’t want a demon, I want you.”

The embrace ceased to be restrictive, somehow transmuted into loving although Spike couldn’t have explained what made the difference when Xander didn’t seem to stir.

“Thank you.  But I can still…”  He nuzzled the bite mark.  Spike nodded, pleasantly jittery at the touch.  “Good.  I liked what you said.  About marking you as mine.  I need to mark you as mine.”  Xander’s mouth worried the incipient scar.

“Mmm, yeah, all yours” Spike murmured, blond head leaning against the dark, unprepared for the fierceness of the bite that followed.

…

Spike leant on the newel post at the foot of the stairs and listened.  He could hear the deep, even breaths of Xander sleeping in their bedroom.  A man at peace.  Statement or question?  Spike collected a beer from the refrigerator and went through to the games room, racking up the balls on the pool table, helping himself to a cue.  He was weary, would have liked to snuggle up to his human and get some rest, but the agitation he’d felt since the scene in the shower refused to be shaken off.  Draining, turning – offering a pint or eight – what the bloody hell was that all about?  His pet had become…dark.

Had he really expected Xander not to change during their time apart?  Or had he taken too much for granted, held onto the memory of what Xander was before five years of emotional devastation?  Changed me, had to change him.  Spike had never had the chance to mend after the incident when Xander was beaten up by the drunks; Xander leaving him had compounded the sense of uselessness and self-disgust.  He’d lost most of his fight, going through the motions of his unlife and trying to behave as expected for the sake of Willow and Dawn, but inside he was weak and empty, overwhelmed by the pointlessness of his existence.  It was no surprise that Finn’s people had taken him so easily: he’d lost his fierce desire for survival, had become careless.  If he was honest with himself, it was only Willow’s persistence that had kept him alive for so long.  And he’d often been ungrateful and difficult, unable to avoid or bear the constant reminders of Xander that came from living with someone else who adored and missed him.

Five years.  And whereas he’d become weaker, Xander had become stronger.  No, harder was a better description.  Yet, incongruously, more fragile.  Hard, unforgiving, vulnerable, brittle.  Volatile.  Complex.  Spike’d seen Willow fighting to stay close to her best friend, making excuse after excuse for him so she could love him as much as ever.

Untouchable.  The core of Xander was untouchable.  Except by his vampire.  Wouldn’t want to be on the outside of his love.  No chance of that though: this man loved him more ferociously than he had any right to expect or hope for.  During that fucking awful confession during their last trip to Willow’s and despite his distress, maybe even because of it, Spike had been acutely aware of Xander – every inflection, look, change in body language or scent – and Angel would never know how close he came to being dusted.  This Xander would have done it too, coldly and efficiently, not just threatened it.  He was the true Alpha male here.  Master.  Claimant.  Spike’s fingers drifted to the wound at the meeting point of his neck and shoulder; a bolt of desire raced through his body and he snatched the hand away, gripping the cue and trying to re-direct his attention.  I’m claimed.  Lust wriggled and pestered as he cleared the table.  I’m claimed.  Xander fucked me and claimed me and I’m his.  He wanted Xander inside him again but knew there was no chance of that yet – the extent of Xander’s rage as he’d bundled up the bloodied bedclothes (that, quite frankly, Spike would’ve kept as mementoes) and thrown them out with the garbage had shocked and excited Spike – and his lover wouldn’t be moved on this.  Darling Xander inside me.  It had been a thrilling experience, Xander taking him so savagely, and all, most, some of the vestiges of depression, emptiness, pointlessness had been battered out of him.  Claimed.  Even as his body had torn and bled, all Spike had been able to think of was how much he was loved and wanted.  Claimed and marked and belonging.  Xander would never understand.  And then, when Xander had decided to stop hating himself and the act he was performing and concentrated on giving pleasure…

Spike threw down his pool cue and switched off the light, quickly stepping out of the dark and into the bright hallway.  Xander didn’t have to understand to appreciate a horny vampire and a hard cock that had his name written all over it.  Taking the stairs three at a time Spike ran toward the room where Xander didn’t know what was about to hit him, bounding to his own side of the bed – I have my own side of the bed! – and starting to strip.  Looking at Xander his actions slowed, ground to a halt.  It was so rare for the human to be this tranquil, he couldn’t disturb him.

He finished undressing and climbed into bed, smiling to himself as Xander instantly reached for him, moving close.

“Spike,” was mumbled in recognition.

“Darling Xander,” Spike whispered in return, using a term of affection he thought often but doubted he’d ever be brave enough to call a fully-conscious Xander.  Then he was laughing at himself, at the pair of them.  We’re like a couple of ducky old queens.  Sweetheart and Darling.

Xander shifted; a hot hand found the vampire’s erection and sleepily fumbled with it.

“Fuck me.”

“No, I can’t.  Because of William,” Spike explained for the second time in a few hours, unable to believe he was passing up such a treat because of his own ridiculous insecurity.

“Want you.”

“I know.  Soon, I promise.  Go to sleep, Xan.”

Xander snuggled up to the pleasantly cool body and slipped into a deeper sleep.  Spike lay awake for a long time, watching his partner and adoring him, feeling soppy and romantic.  Claimed.  God help him, he loved this man with a passion he’d thought beyond him: he was painfully infatuated, had been for years.  Together years, apart years.  Years of unrequited desire to catch up on.  ‘Soon, I promise.’  A promise he could keep?  If Angel came through for him and found a way to remove or disable the chip.  The knock-on effect was quite profound: chip meant defenceless, defenceless meant vulnerable, vulnerable meant unstable, unstable meant William.  And William wasn’t getting anywhere near Xander.

It was so long since he’d counted on Angel for anything other than misery or disappointment.  Spike tried to remember the positive feelings he’d had for his grand-sire a century before, the thrill he’d felt in the presence of such a mighty demon, the love that he’d harboured despite the abuse and contempt.  The memories were insipid in comparison to what he felt for Xander. 

With a sigh he finally settled down to sleep, curling into his human and deeply inhaling his scent, blissful at the familiarity.  He abruptly stopped the purr as it rumbled into being, wary of Xander hearing and thinking less of him because of the peculiarity.  But Xander was so deeply asleep…  Spike indulged himself, purring lightly, lulling himself to sleep with the mesmerising drone.

Repossession 24       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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