Xander peeled open an eyelid and took a look at the clock.  Six-thirty-nine.  PM.  Looks like I’m late for work.  Spike’s side of the bed was empty and a predictable oh-God-no-was-it-all-a-dream shot through Xander’s mind before being rejected in favour of I-hear-Burt-Bacharach-in-the-kitchen.

Dressed in his robe, Xander wandered downstairs, already humming along to the music, finding Spike sat at the table concentrating hard on something he was drawing.  Xander took a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and drained it in one go.

“Hey.”

Spike jumped.

“Flippin’ Ada, where did you come from?”

“What’s that?”

He nodded at the sketch pad.  Spike turned it toward him as he took a seat.  Xander studied the unfamiliar face and looked a question.

“He’s the one who particularly enjoyed breaking my wrists.  Or rather enjoyed watching me watching him breaking my wrists.”

The colour drained from Xander’s face.

“He just looks…he looks…”

“What?  Ordinary?  Always been difficult, playing spot the sadist.”

“Can I have this?”

Beat.

“Sure.”

Xander carefully removed the page from the pad and rose, screwing it into a ball as he crossed to the waste disposal unit.  He dropped the bunched paper into the unit and flicked a switch, whizzing it to pulp.  Satisfied it was mush, he flicked the switch a second time and faced Spike with a smile that was easily returned.

“Can we start today over?”

“Be my guest.”

Xander sauntered over and hauled Spike’s chair away from the table before sliding on to the vampire’s lap, removing his glasses and poking them into the neck of his t-shirt.

“Hi, Spike.”

“Hello, love.”

Xander laid several tender kisses on Spike’s face and mouth.

“Missed you like crazy.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Spike’s kisses were harder, and Xander made happy noises as a cold hand ran along his thigh and into his robe, discontented noises as it disappeared again far too quickly.

“Want you,” Xander stated the obvious, but to no avail.

“Bad timing.  Food’s ready in twenty minutes.”

“It can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” Spike insisted, easing Xander from his lap and into the adjacent chair.

Xander sighed and considered various forms of coercion, but he’d seen Spike’s determined face before and knew the vampire wouldn’t be budged.

“Sleep well?”

“I did.  Nothing like your own bed, is there?”

“Depends who’s in it.”

“I’ll get to that in a minute,” Spike grinned.  “Okay, few points.  I phoned Patrick and explained why you weren't at work.  No problems there.”

“Thanks.”

“Gave him a bit of a bollocking for not taking better care of you with me out of town…”

“Spike!”

“…but he appreciated what I was on about and, don’t panic, I haven’t got you disowned or disinherited.  We need to go out later and get some more blood because I don’t know where your mate gets his but it is so much better than the suppliers in LA and I want to feed till I go pop after putting up with shit for weeks.”

“But you have been feeding?”

“Better than you by the looks of it.  How much weight have you lost?”  Xander shrugged; Spike let it go.  For the moment.  “Angel took me to what’s left of the place where I was…held.  Seeing it helped.  It stank of their blood.  Their death.  All in all a worthwhile visit.”

“Good.”

“Umm…  We’ve found a procedure which may allow the reprogramming of the chip.  It’s untested and therefore dangerous but it may be the only chance, so I said you should decide whether we go ahead.  Angel is not happy with me for putting the onus on you.  Me and the old man were squabbling about it when you phoned that last time, hence the dodgy atmosphere you must’ve noticed.”

The colour that had so recently returned to Xander’s cheeks disappeared again.

“How dangerous?”

Spike ignored the question and pressed on.

“And I’ve been looking for a way to turn you without you losing your soul.  To keep you with me but not lose what’s essentially you.  Don’t just want a demon with your face.”

“Turn me?”

“I’m far too selfish a bastard to part with you.  Think we should leave this one to fight over when we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Well…fuck me,” Xander exclaimed under his breath.

“Knew we’d get back to who’s in the bed: this morning was bloody fantastic and totally consensual.  Just don’t blame me for misbehaving to ensure I get the same treatment again.”  Spike gave the flummoxed human another smile.  “Any questions?”

“I, er…  Burt Bacharach?”

“Got it for you.”  Spike stood and went to the player, moving the CD on a couple of tracks.  “Got it for this.”

Xander knew what was coming but still couldn’t hide the silly grin when the opening strains of ‘This Guy’s in Love With You’ filled the kitchen.  Spike strolled over, tugged him out of his seat, and slid his arms around Xander’s waist, resting their brows together as he swayed them to the music.

“You seem a lot better.  More like…well, like you.”

“That first week away from you was hell, Angel must’ve thought he’d been landed with another curse having me around, but after we went to that place…”

“Was that where he wanted to take you?”

“Thanksgiving,” Spike nodded.  “After we went there it all started to turn around.  It became easier when – and I hope you’ll understand this because it’s a bugger to explain – when it stopped being inside my head and became something that another person could experience.  I wish it’d been you with me, but with Angel there I felt…  With him there I couldn’t stay feeling like a victim because I know he’d never let me be one in his presence, whatever our history.”

“I think that’s pretty well explained.”

“It hasn’t gone away, and there are still times when I don’t think I can carry on with the memories eating me up, but those times don’t happen so often.  It’s a start, eh?”

“You’re very adaptable.  You deal with things quickly.”

“Not much of a brooder,” Spike smiled.  “Leave that to the expert.”

“You know you can talk to me about any of it.”

“Still don’t want to.  Angel said you told him to blow up that place.”

“Not in so many words.  But I wanted the people that hurt you dead and he knew it.”

“You’re such an old-fashioned romantic, Xander.  Gold Card.  Jaguar.   Mass murder.”

“So, this procedure.  How dangerous?”

“Later.”

“Now.  How dangerous?”

“It may be my only hope.”

“What are the chances of you coming out of it undamaged?”

“Maybe…a twenty, thirty percent chance.”

“That’s not acceptable.”

“But if it’s…”

“I’m a selfish bastard too, all right?  I don’t want to lose you.”

“Can we talk about this again?  If I explain more about it…”

“You said this was my decision to make, and for some stupid reason Angel thought it would be difficult.  But I’m not risking you.  There’ll be another solution somewhere along the way, with better odds.”

“Xander…”

“Am I ever careless with my property?” Xander snapped, forcing Spike to back down, regretting his words immediately.  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say stuff like that just to get my own way.”

Spike took Xander’s hand and guided it to the front of his jeans, pressing it over the hardening mound in the denim.

“Being your property is not a problem.”

“Until the novelty wears off.”

“If you reckon that’ll happen you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”  Spike pulled away and went to check the pans on the stove.  “I’m a fairly simple creature: I don’t tend to over-analyse the things that are right in my existence, I’d rather get on and enjoy them.  I intend to enjoy you for a very long time.  Constancy not novelty.  Nothing about you is going to wear off.”

“Have you been practising smart answers again?”

“I want long-term.  I’m good at long-term.  If you’re not up for that you need to let me know.”

Xander became introspective and Spike knew what was going through his head: being turned.  Tough subject, he knew, especially when there were so many complications.  The vampire wasn’t even sure if turning his Xander into what was effectively his Xander without a pulse was a possibility, but if there was the slightest chance he would persuade Xander to take it.  Long-term indeed.  He didn’t intend to ever let Xander go.

…

“He fancies you.”

“He doesn’t.”

“I can tell.”

“So can I, and he doesn’t.  According to you, everybody we meet wants to throw me over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck me senseless.”

“I know what I saw,” Spike grumbled as he slid further down the passenger seat of the Merc.

“You might want to think about being nicer to the guy who supplies good blood.  All that growling lacked a degree of niceness.”

“I don’t do nice.”  Xander let out a short laugh.  “With you is different,” Spike protested.  “Course I’m nice to you, you’re my honey.”

“Yeah, I’m that all right,” Xander agreed softly, fondly rubbing the cool fingers that lay proprietarily on his thigh.  “I think it’s you that needs to do the throwing and fucking.”

“If that’s your way of trying to get me in the back of this car I have to tell you it’s going to work.”  Xander smiled but said nothing.  “Not going to happen, eh?  Can I guess why?”  Spike played at deliberate thought.  “Maybe it’s because the moment I turned my back you stopped eating and all your other jeans just hang instead of fit so you don’t want to get these covered in…”

“Spike…”

“How d’you think I felt, Xander?  Coming home and taking a look and knowing you hadn’t been eating or sleeping?”

“Don’t be mad.  It’s not like it was deliberate,” Xander argued weakly.

“The sleeping, I know, you can’t control, but the eating…”

“I did try.  Sleeping tablets.”

“And?”

“They made me feel out if it so I flushed them.”

“How many nights?”

“Couple.”

“Then you didn’t give them a chance.”

“I couldn’t think straight at work, I was a liability on site, and—”

“What?”

“I thought, if you had come home…  I wouldn’t have…tasted right.”

“For God’s sake, Xander, as if that matters!”

“It does to me.”

“This is your health.”

“You’re here now, it’s okay.  I slept, I’ve eaten, I’m – I’m…okay.”

“And when I go back to LA?”

“Back?  When?”

The sound and scent of Xander’s distress overwhelmed Spike’s senses for a moment; when the vampire spoke again his words were low and calming, his fingers caressing the thigh beneath them.

“Not yet.  I’m home now and I’ve no definite plans to leave again.  There’s nothing for you to worry about.  All you’ve got to focus on is you and me, some peace and quiet, and mending.”  Xander nodded, unable to trust his voice.  “Patrick said everything’s closing down for a couple of weeks over Christmas.”  Nod.  “Us time.  That’ll be good.”

“I missed you so badly,” Xander admitted hoarsely.  “I thought I’d lost you, couldn’t get round that.”

“That’s so bloody ridiculous I’m gonna ignore it.”

“I can’t help it.  It’s not something I want to think, it’s just…there.  In my head.  It’s been there all the time.”

“You have to get past it.”

“I will.  Like you said: you, me, peace, quiet, mending.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Well, maybe it’s not going to go away.  Maybe I’ll feel like this whenever we’re apart and it’s something I have to live with.  Just one of those reactions that doesn’t fade.  Like the fact that after all this time, I still wake up beside you and panic because I can’t hear you breathing.”

“You really do that?” Spike asked, intrigued.

“No, I’m making this up as I go along,” Xander snapped back sarcastically.  Spike fell silent.  “Sorry.”  Nothing.  “I’ll get over it.  I’ll deal.  Sorry.  Change the subject?”

Spike glanced over with a kind smile that made Xander feel ten times worse about snapping.  The hand on his thigh stroked and soothed, and it wasn’t until Xander released his tension with a deep sigh that Spike chose to speak.

“Any plans for Christmas you want to shock me with?  Am I suddenly going to find myself playing Santa for the family?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”  Xander caught the menacing look from the vampire and it felt so good.  “I wondered about going to Willow’s – she calls to ask every other day – but I haven’t made plans.  I wasn’t sure where you’d be and if I was on my own I was going.  Pat and Beth have a kind of open house invitation: you turn up as and when and they’re happy to see you.  Rafe and Moira hold a New Year party.  We can go to any or all or none, no pressure.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“No.  You wont.  We’ll do whatever we want.  And I think that’ll involve a lot of privacy.”

“Want to do the whole seasonal business?”

“I’m not bothered about a tree, or decorations, I just want you, and a promise that you’ll stay out of the end bedroom.”

“Oh, shit, you’re kidding.”

“Yeah, I know it’ll be tough, but remember: curiosity killed the vampire.”

“That room’s gonna be come hithering every hour of the soddin’ day and night now.”

“Promise.”

“Shit, Xan!”

“What if I try to keep your mind off it?”

“Right, you’ll be down on me and in my head it’s mouth, room, hot, room, wet, room…”

“Ah, well,” Xander sighed, “really will have to tie you to the bed.”  He flinched as Spike’s nails attempted to embed themselves in his thigh, thankful that the jeans were still new and skin-savingly tough.  “Want to let up?”

Spike automatically snatched his hand away before immediately returning it to rub the abused area.

“Sorry, pet.  Bit excitable is all.”

“You have to promise me.  And don’t get too worked up about what’s in there because I’ve probably got it totally wrong and you’ll hate…whatever it is.”

Spike hesitated before grudgingly giving Xander what he wanted.

“I promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.  No getting out of it by protesting about being evil.”

“Don’t worry.  I’ve given up trying to fool myself on that score.”

“I think you could be pretty evil if you put your mind to it.”

“Yeah?”

“And I’ll remind you of this conversation when you’re chipless and you’ve got me shackled to some wall, fucking me like a maniac and trying to decide whether to drain me or keep me as your warm and willing sex slave.”

“Steady on, love.  Not a lot of room in these jeans.”

“What ya getting me then?”

“Ropes, handcuffs, chains, whips, nipple clamps…”

“You are joking, right?  Don’t want to have the, ‘What did you get for Christmas?’ conversation with Dawnie if you’re serious.”

“She’d probably ask to borrow them.”

“Not hearing this,” Xander announced loudly.  “Don’t want to know.”

“Oh?”

“That’d be on the list somewhere between Willow dancing naked and blood-stained around pentacles, and Buffy getting down and dirty with Angel.”

Spike snickered.

“You don’t want to see the photos of Red then?”

“Be kidding if you want to live, pal.”

“Xander…” Spike started slowly, turning in his seat to face Xander.  “Would you let me shackle you to a wall and fuck you?”

“I, umm…  Not the way I pictured my first time, but what the hell!”  Xander glanced at Spike.  “Any progress in that area?  You ready to…”

“No.  I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Feel bad about it.”

“Are you telling me you don’t?”

“I’m good at waiting.  Y’know…thinking.  And you doing that to me may be a fantasy right now but I know it’s a fantasy that’s gonna come true and that’s so fucking exciting.  You shouldn’t be worried about mentioning it, I’m not going to make demands, or sulk or fight over it.”

“What if I’m never…”  Worthy.  “…ready?”

“Then it’ll be my turn to tie you down and impale myself on you.”

“Oh, Christ.”

“What?”

“Forget everything else, buy me bigger jeans for Christmas.”

…

Xander woke from his doze, wriggled onto his back and blinkingly gazed up from his vampire’s lap.  Spike’s right hand moved to rest on his chest, thumb stroking, the left continued to shade a drawing in the pad that was precariously balanced on the sofa arm.

“You’re lovely, Xander,” he said softly.  “D’you know that?”

“I know you believe it.  That’s kinda nice.”  The pad was handed over and Xander scrutinized the picture of him sleeping; the obvious affection in the study made him tingle.  “I think the artist is better than the subject.”

Spike tossed the pad away, face becoming serious, glasses off and tucked into their usual off-duty position.

“Do you want to talk about…”

“Not tonight.”

“Tomorrow it will be not today, the day after…”

“Can’t I just enjoy you being here?”

Xander started to rise but Spike pressed him back into his lap, running his fingers through the silky hair, brushing it from Xander’s brow.

“Tomorrow?”

Brown eyes closed as Spike’s finger trailed down the centre of Xander’s face.

“Tomorrow,” Xander sighed, before catching the finger between his teeth on its second journey along the same route.  Spike let the human draw his finger deeper, recognising the swirling pattern of the tongue, feeling his cock grow with the memory.  Xander rubbed his head against the rapidly hardening lump beneath it, hearing a breath from the vampire and smiling around the finger before releasing it.  “Tell me something.”

“Mmm?”

“Back in Sunnydale, did you ever think about us and picture how it would happen if it happened?”

“Only about…fifty times an hour.”

“Only fifty?  Knew I was getting obsessive.”

“Have a favourite?”

“A pretty tame favourite.  I was an innocent back then, remember.”

“Innocent,” Spike repeated mockingly.

“With men.  With vampires.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.  Tell me the favourite.”

“I want to hear yours.”

“All of them?”

“You have one you always went back to?”

“Two.  One was a typical vampire fantasy full of brutal fucking and blood and turning and what you’d do without question if you were my childe.  Give that one a miss, shall we?”  Xander nodded and deliberately treated Spike’s erection to a little more friction.  “The other…  No, you have to tell me yours first.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“By the utter wetness of it, yes.  Anyway, can’t you guess the kind of thing?”

Xander thought about it, head slowly moving over the lump.

“Actively desired?”  Nod.  “If we’re being that ambiguous you know mine.”

“You wanted to be taken.”  Xander paused for more thought.  “Not hurt but…  Didn’t you?”

“There was more to it than that.”

“Let me have a guess.  Pretty tame…”  He looked down at Xander, trying to read his mind.  “It would be a familiar scenario.”  Xander cracked a smile.  “And the most familiar you, me, close contact, would have to be when I used to get into your bed before you got up for work.”  Wider smile followed by biting of the bottom lip.  “So…  Any old morning?  Special morning?”

“Any old morning.”

“I’d slide in beside you and…was there a verbal soundtrack or just soft porn muzak?”

“Verbal soundtrack was essential.”

Spike played with a few lines in his head, before giving it a shake.

“Your fantasy, what did I say?”

“You had to tell me you loved me,” Xander admitted, bracing himself for ridicule, but Spike just stroked his face.

“I could have done that.  Told you how much I loved you and wanted you.  You needed me to tell you how special you were.”

“I needed you to want me more than you’d ever wanted anyone else, I wanted you to say that.”

“Where does the taking come into it?”

“You need all of twenty seconds to figure it out.”

“Umm…  Reluctant virgin needs to be persuaded that it’s okay to fuck a vampire?  Nasty horny vampire doesn’t take no for an answer?”  Spike grinned.  “Reluctant virgin is thoroughly and wonderfully fucked but because he was taken he doesn’t have to accept responsibility for his actions.  Nasty horny vampire can also be forgiven because he was overwhelmed with love and lust.”

Xander returned the grin, caught Spike’s hand and planted a kiss in the palm.

“I guess yours can’t be so different.  The wanting to be wanted.”

“Not so different,” Spike agreed.

“Gonna tell me?  Never know, you might get lucky.”

Spike laid his head back and closed his eyes, remembering the past, the younger Xander – and hadn’t he been special in a whole different way to the man he became? – remembering the fantasy and trying to make up his mind whether he wanted to embrace or disregard it.  It held associations that he didn’t deal with well, but now it was…surely it was different, he had Xander.  He had Xander.

“I’m at the crypt – don’t know why but it was always the crypt – and you show up.  I think you’re there on some errand and try to dismiss you but you won’t have any of it.  I turn away from you but you’re saying my name, and so soft, and I have to look back.  For the first time I notice how you’re dressed, all silk and leather, and I taste the air for your scent and there’s a hint of fear but a whole lot of desire.  Our eyes catch and hold.  You start to tell me you want me, always in that soft voice, and you shrug off the coat.  Keep telling me, explaining how you’ve wanted me for so long, and you gradually take off your clothes, just letting them fall to the floor.  You never look away from my face, and watch me staring at you until you’re naked, and perfect, and hard, and you’re asking if I’ll have you, if I’ll be the first for you, ‘cause there’s no-one else you’ll ever want like this.  You’re strong, you don’t beg, and I—”  Spike came to an abrupt halt, shifting uncomfortably at the weight on his extremely hard cock.  “I think you can figure out the rest, love.”

Xander changed position, rolling awkwardly until he was resting on his elbows.

“Jeans,” he said quietly.  Spike nodded, breathing raggedly as he rapidly undid his fly, pushing the restrictive clothing down to his thighs.  Leaning over Spike’s lap Xander bit and sucked his way from balls to glans.  “Keep talking,” he instructed before wrapping his lips around the head of Spike’s cock and teasing it with his tongue.

“Talk.  Right.  I think I can figure out how to do that.  Umm…  Offering, you were offering yourself, and it’s like I’m struck dumb.  So you start to strip me, and I’ve never had anyone look at me like that before, fascinated and wanting, and now you’re so close you’re whispering all those things about me having you first and how much you need me in you, deep in you.  You turn, lean over the tomb, and your hands come back and you hold yourself open for me, giving yourself, and I put my fingers to you and despite how tight you are they slide in because you’ve prepared yourself, ready to take me—”

A gasp and Spike’s hand was clutching at Xander’s hair, but instead of stopping, the human shook the hand off and increased the speed and suction as his head rose and fell.

“I have you, Xan.  I get to have you, to fuck you.  And you keep asking for more, wanting me, wanting more of me.  I get to have you.  God, I want you, I want to fuck you so much, I want to be inside you, I want…  Xander!”  Spike’s body spasmed, thrusting up against the hand that had wisely shot out to keep it down.  “Xander,” Spike groaned again as he emptied himself into his lover’s mouth, feeling the familiar sensation of Xander swallowing and jerking against that hand once more.  “Xander…” he sighed, finding just enough energy to stroke his fingertips along the back of Xander’s neck.  Xander.

…

“Silk and leather,” Xander mused, finally upright and leaning against Spike, nuzzling a cold earlobe.

“You’d look a treat.  Funny that.  The better a person looks in their kit the more you want to get ‘em out of it.”

“Want me to get some?”

Beat.

“Yeah.”

Xander carried on fussing over his partner, trying to dismiss the comments that might just emerge from his mouth if it detached itself from Spike’s body for a moment.  The, ‘Tell me the real reason why you won’t fuck me because it must be one hell of a reason when we both want it so much,’ and the, ‘Silk and leather shouts of Angel and I don’t want to be Angel’.

“I’ve got to go to bed,” Xander announced when he finally decided to make a break for it.

“Want me to come up?”

“I need to sleep.  I have to go in tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll send you to sleep with a smile on your face.”

Repossession 39       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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