The thirtieth, and Xander was taking his time cleaning and polishing the Merc, dragging out the time until they were ready to hit the road and head for Sunnydale.  He’d woken with the familiar feeling of dread, and it was growing steadily worse as the day progressed; it didn’t matter how much he wanted to see his friends, the thought of returning to his home town made his stomach churn.  When he’d had to go in recent months, when it had been about Spike, it had been bearable, but now…  There were associations he didn’t want to be reminded of, couldn’t bear to think about normally, and were particularly difficult to face at this time of year; a massive trip down memory lane that left him feeling as if he’d been booted from one end of that path to the other.

Spike watched through the shuttered window, studied the troubled expression on his partner’s face and considered how to coax the truth from Xander.  He knew Xander didn’t want to make this trip and wished he’d noticed how bad his love was feeling about it while there’d been time to alter their arrangements and insist that they were visitees rather than visitors.  But Xander was being his usual stubborn self and refusing to acknowledge any problem, pretending that he was fine and looking forward to the trip, pretending that it was nothing unusual for him not to eat because he was so unsettled he wasn’t sure anything would stay down.  Not that he’d admitted as much, but Spike knew, and was angry in an unwieldy, imprecise way that left him wanting to kill or fuck or…

He went through the house to the garage and, safely in the shade, lounged over the hood of the Jag.  Xander looked in his direction and smiled.

“Now, that’s how they should sell cars.”

Spike returned the smile.

“Come and fuck.  Or fuck and come, whatever.”

“Do we have time?”

“I don’t believe you said that,” Spike groaned.  “There go all my fantasies about Xander, the ultimate sex machine, always ready, always able, never looking at his watch and calculating whether he can fit a shag between buffing his hubcaps and rearranging his commemorative spoons.”

Xander laughed and carried on polishing, working around the car until he was facing Spike.  A glance and he froze.  Spike was sprawled across his car, head and shoulders leant back on the windscreen, eyes closed; bare-chested, flies open and hand leisurely stroking himself.

“Oh…baby,” Xander said under his breath, but not far enough under; Spike smirked.

“I’m making time.”

The sound of hurried footsteps but in the opposite direction.  Spike’s eyes sprang open and he found himself quite alone.  A scowl and a listen and an undoing of scowl.  Closing his eyes again, Spike continued his ministrations, listening to the footsteps approaching and, after a few seconds, the faintest tick, instantly recognisable as the activation of their digital camera.

“I was wrong.  That’s how they should sell cars.”

A few more ticks and Xander was stuffing the camera into his back pocket, trotting to Spike and grabbing his ankles to pull him down the hood of the Jag.  Spike laughed as he was tugged into Xander’s embrace and, after a quick glance to ensure clouds were masking the watery rays of the sun, quickly bundled into the back of the Merc, the human landing on him heavily and immediately beginning a slow grind.  After somehow managing to remove Xander’s t-shirt, Spike squirmed his hands between them, releasing Xander from his jeans; they shared a quiet moan of pleasure at the contact as their cocks were squashed together, Spike pushing up as Xander pressed down.

“Fuck me, Xander.  Want to fuck me?”

“This is good,” Xander gasped.  “This good?”

“This is good,” Spike agreed, pushing Xander’s jeans further down and helping himself to handfuls of muscular buttocks.  “Marking me, yeah?”

“You’re mine.”

Spike loved those simple, possessive words: no matter how many times he heard them they filled him with joy and stirred his devotion; he gave in to the physical sensations, letting his concerns over Xander’s insecurities be driven from his mind by the man himself as Xander sped up his thrusts and bit down hard on his claiming mark.  The action sent familiar sparks of libidinal electricity coursing through Spike’s body, all to converge in his cock and balls; no choice about when to come, and he gave himself completely over to Xander, jerking and panting as his tepid semen spurted between them, clinging to their bellies and joining them by thick strands when the gap between them temporarily widened.  Spike’s body endeavoured to relax into a post-orgasmic slump but he soon realised that Xander wasn’t stopping, that he was intent on dragging another climax from him, mashing his steely cock into Spike’s sensitised flesh.

“Xander,” he said hoarsely, “Xander, slow down.”

“No.”

“Xander…”

“Come for me, sweetheart, all over me.  I want every demon in that fucking hellhole to be able to smell that we’re together.”

“At Willow’s, love.  It’ll only be Angel.”

“Yeah.  I want him to smell us and choke on it.”

That further show of possessiveness and another, harder bite that Xander drew from, and Spike was hollering as his second orgasm was torn from him, clinging to his human as this time, vampire blood wreaking havoc with every nerve in his body, Xander noisily joined him and the coldness was alleviated by a gush of wet heat.

They lay there for a while, languidly kissing, until Xander took a look at the car’s clock.  Spike saw the sinking of spirits and tried to figure out how to approach a conversation that held such scope for disaster.  It was more likely Xander wouldn’t give it a chance to get started, and maybe that was a relief, but seeing his lover so unhappy forced Spike to try.  It was almost as if Xander knew what was coming, and as Spike drew breath to speak he got in first.

“Better make a move.”

He grabbed his t-shirt and began wiping them down.

“I can safely assume we’re not showering?”

“It’s not like we’re dirty, we’re just…”

“Covered in spunk.”

“Eau-de-vampire,” Xander grinned, and Spike grinned back.

“You know that’ll drive Angel wild?”

“Tough.”  The grin didn’t lessen.  “He can’t have you.”

“Us.  It’s the us that’ll do him in.”

“Gotta make a move.  You say us and I start to get horny all over again.”

“Let’s stay home, love,” Spike coaxed as he pulled Xander to him and nuzzled his neck.  “We can go and see them anytime, let’s…”

“We have to go, I said we’d go.”

Xander sounded miserable but resolute, kissing Spike several times before withdrawing and climbing into the front of the car so he could back it into the garage and out of the daylight.

They cleaned up a little, but only a little at Xander’s insistence, changed their clothes, and while Xander grimly put their luggage in the Merc’s trunk, Spike headed for the kitchen to heat up some blood and make coffee.  Still preoccupied with Xander’s preoccupation, Spike once again debated the likelihood of stopping Xander making a trip he was dreading.

“Hey,” came Xander’s voice from the doorway.  Spike welcomed him with a smile, distractedly handed over a mug, saw Xander’s reaction and exchanged it for the one with the coffee.  “Thanks.”  Xander sipped.  “I keep hearing you muttering.”

“Muttering?”

“Muttering.  Definite mutterage.”

“So?”

“Are you talking to yourself or to William?”

“Does it matter?”

“It doesn’t matter, I didn’t mean that it matters, I was just curious.  I didn’t think he was still around.”

Spike watched Xander stroll to the window, putting his back to Spike.

“You can’t hide it.”

“Hide what?”

“The look you get when you talk about him.”

“I don’t get any look,” Xander automatically denied.

Snuggling against Xander’s back, Spike linked his arms around his waist and hugged.

“I don’t mind.”

“So…” Xander began hesitantly, “is it him you’re talking to?”

“Maybe.  I don’t know, I don’t think about it.”

“How long until you forget about him completely?”

“No idea.”

“If you turned me and the demon took over completely and there was nothing of me left would you forget me as easily?” tumbled from Xander before he could stop it.

Spike stiffened, hugged harder.

“That could never happen, any of it.  Any of it.”

“You prepared to risk it to get what you want?”

“No.  I’d have to be sure of keeping you like this before I turned you.”

“But if…”

“I’d never risk you, this, us,” Spike insisted, and Xander fell silent.  “I love you,” Spike whispered against Xander’s ear.  “This you.”

“You love my warmth but you’re willing to give it up.”

“Measure warmth against your presence for eternity.  Yes, I’d give up your warmth to keep you with me.”

“How much else are you willing to give up?  And how about what I’d lose, what about that?  My work, my family…”

“You’d never lose your family,” Spike contradicted without a shadow of doubt.

“Buffy would never understand.  And how do I tell Pat that I’ve suddenly developed the same allergy as you?  That I have to quit because I can’t go on site, I can’t…  Sunshine.  You wish you could feel the sun on your face again, but you want to take it away from me.”

“This isn’t about what I want to take away from you, it’s what I want to give you.”

“To give you.”

“Perhaps.  But the choice is yours, Xander.  I’m not going to force you…”

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, I shouldn’t have to.  I’m human, I live, I die, that’s it.  Fragile mortal and that’s it.  And before you say another word I think I need to slip back into denial now.”  Spike bit his tongue and left the pointless arguments and pleading for another time, glad of that decision when Xander took his arms and pulled them tighter still.  “I didn’t mean to talk about that now.  I just…  Maybe you can’t help it, but I won’t forget William.  Whether that’s okay with you or not.”

“It’s okay.”

Xander released Spike’s arms and wriggled around to face him, giving him the kind of kisses that usually resulted in a vampire being fucked on the nearest convenient surface, but this time they ended abruptly and Xander was away.

“We have to go.  If we don’t go now we won’t go at all and we have to go…” faded as Xander left the room and marched up the hall.

Spike finished up his blood, washed the mugs and reluctantly followed his unhappy partner.

Three-hundred miles into their trip and Spike couldn’t stand the strain of being the quietly supportive boyfriend any longer.  He demanded that they get off the road and waited impatiently for Xander to leave the freeway and find a quiet spot to park in.

“What’s wrong?” Xander asked, taking Spike’s hand and squeezing it in imagined comfort.

“Exactly.”

Beat.

“Again?”

“What’s wrong?”

Beat.

“No, wait, I said…”

“I know you said, but I should have.  Talk to me, Xander, before that vein in your temple pops from the stress.”

“I’m…”

“You tell me you’re fine and I swear I’ll risk the pain to thump you.”

Xander nodded and stared at their joined hands for a few minutes.

“Guess I may be a little…tense.”

“Why didn’t you say, love?  Why didn’t you just say?  ‘I don’t want to go.’  There, simple.  Repeat after me…”

“I’ll be okay when we get there.”

“Why should you have to be?”

“I promised Willow.”

“Who is going to end the world if you don’t show?  Funny, that.  I seem to remember Red as the caring sort.  The sort who’d be horrified to know how much you’re suffering just to keep your promise.”

“Not suffering, Spike.  We both know suffering and this isn’t it.”

“Suffering.”

“No.  If I’d said I don’t want to go it would have been self-indulgence, nothing more.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I promised Wills.  If I’m going to let her down I have to have a better excuse than behaving like some stupid kid who’s scared of—”

A short, uncomfortable pause followed; Xander repeatedly traced Spike’s knuckles.

“Going to finish that?” Spike asked as if the awkward sentiment were a half-eaten burger.  Xander shook his head.  “Can I?”  Xander shook his head again.  Spike ignored that and proceeded.  “Some stupid kid who’s…scared of regressing to the geek, the loser, the errand-boy the moment he steps within the town’s boundaries?  Who’s scared of feeling inadequate and worthless in the presence of friends who, due to accidents of nature, have abilities that, he believes, make them more valued or better people?  Or the stupid kid who’s scared of reminders, of memories, of two ignorant fucks who made his life misery for so long?”

“I can’t…”  Xander’s voice cracked and Spike’s hold became unbearably tight.  Xander allowed his fingers to be crushed, letting the pain focus him.  “At my age I should be able to reason my way through all this shit.”

“At your age?  Doesn’t leave much hope for me then, does it?  I’ve got a century on you and I still have problems figuring out whether or not I’m alone in an otherwise empty house.”

“Spike…” emerged as a pained whisper.

“Come on, don’t get any more miserable, I wasn’t looking for a sympathy vote.”  He leant across and laid a gentle kiss on Xander’s mouth.  “All I’m saying is, why should you have to cope with this?  You despise the place and with good reason, so let’s just turn the car around, go home and be happy, eh?”

Xander turned to stare out of the side window, writing ‘Spike’ in the fog on the window where his breath steamed up the cold glass.

“I hate that you have to try to convince me I’m not a waste of space.”

“Waste of space, my arse!” Spike snorted contemptuously, and in the misty window Spike could make out a reflection of the slightest smile on Xander’s face.  That made Spike want to smile too, automatically.  “However wrong it sounds coming out of this mouth I have to say it.  You’re a wonderful man, Xander.  Wonderful.”

“You’re bound to say that: you love me.”

“I’m bound to say that because it’s true.”  Spike squeezed the hand in his and Xander turned back to him, cautiously meeting his eyes.  “It is true.”

“Is it?”

“And they love you too: Willow, Dawn, Buffy, even the wolf.  They’re not going to love you less because you’re not in their faces when the new year staggers in.”  Xander still wavered.  “Let’s not debate it.  Let’s go home.  Say you want to go home.”

More thinking before:

“I want to go home,” Xander admitted, just this side of inaudible.

“There, didn’t hurt, did it?”

“Kind of.”

They sat for a while, surrounded by nothing more than the vague sounds of freeway traffic, as Xander did his best to trust Spike’s feelings to the exclusion of his own.  The weight gradually lifted and Xander’s smile returned.

“Actually it sounds pretty good coming out of that mouth.  Anything does.”

“You’re bound to say that ‘cause you love me. Bloody good thing too. Now gimme a kiss and turn us around.”  Xander leant over to kiss Spike, sincerely, gratefully, rapidly becoming hard and passionately.  It was an almighty effort for Spike to prise Xander away, but he forced himself, impatiently flicking a gesture in the direction of the steering wheel.  “Drive, home, fuck…”

“Fuck…”

“And fuck some more.”

“Couple of hours sleep, fuck before breakfast…”

“Fuck after breakfast…”

“Mid-morning fuck….”

“Bit of lunch, then we could…”

“Fuck, maybe?”

“Couple more hours sleep, fuck before dinner…”

“Fuck after dinner…”

“Watch some telly while we fuck on the sofa…”

“See the year in with…?”  They glanced at one another.  “A drink?” Xander suggested.

“How about…a fuck?”

“Drink and a fuck?”

“So long as the drink doesn’t get in the way of the fucking.”

Xander started the car and took them back onto the freeway, happier, relieved, heading in the right direction.

“I feel bad that I don’t feel bad, because I know I should feel bad…”

“No, Xander,” Spike told him definitely as he fished out his phone and tapped in a number from memory.  Xander’s hands tightened on the wheel as Spike waited for an answer.  “Hello, love, it’s me.  …  No, got a problem.  We’re not coming, I can’t do this.  …  Nothing I want to discuss, it’s too…  Y’know.  …  No, he’s okay, disappointed obviously.  Sends his love.  …  Yeah, I’ll pass it on.  …  I will.  Look, I was thinking, to make up for this, why don’t you and the Bit and Buffy come to stay with us in the summer?  We’ve got loads of room, grounds, pool…  …  Maybe, maybe not, have to see how I feel, but that’s a date, right?”  Spike turned a smug smile on Xander.  “I think you just made Xander a very happy man.  …  I’ll be fine.  Speak to you soon.  Yes, I’ll tell him, I said I’d tell him.  …  Bye, love.”

Spike put the phone away and sighed the sigh of the contented.

“You didn’t have to take the blame.”

“Yes, I did.  They all send their love, like I said.”

“All?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t mention Angel would,” Xander teased.  “Willow, Dawn, Buffy, Oz, but you didn’t mention Angel.”

“He loves you and he loses his bollocks.”  Xander laughed.  “Promise you, it’s the safest way.”

Xander animatedly told Spike about Buffy’s threats to Angel’s balls a few months previously.

“And it was for you.  How about that?”

“Yeah, she’s all right.  For a slayer.  I think you can be a bit hard on her.”

“I can…!  You’re joking, right?”  Spike started to chuckle and Xander whacked him across the thigh.  “They’re going to come and stay in the summer?”

“Looks like it.”

“That’s great.  That’s so great.  You mind?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I minded.”

“I think you might have.”  Xander’s hand drifted to Spike’s thigh and squeezed.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t go all mushy on me.”

“I feel mushy.”

“Right…”  Spike rifled through the CD holder.  “Anti-mush selection.  Clash.”

“REM?”

“Stranglers?”

“Dave Matthews?”

“Ramones?”

“Twilight Singers?”

“Jam?”

A fairish compromise and Xander nodded; Spike slid the disc into the player.

Half-an-hour passed.

“Are you going to miss them?”  Xander gave a shallow nod.  “Want to turn around?”  Shake.  “Do you want company, Xander?  Do you want to see in the year with your folks?”  Xander didn’t question which folks Spike meant, but…

“No.  Just you,” Xander said softly.  “I just want you.”

Repossession 45       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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