Xander lay probing through the latest fuzz in his mind.  He remembered sobbing his heart out.  He remembered being as miserable as hell and knowing nothing could make it better.  He remembered the sorry-for-himselfness that infiltrated everything because he was scared he was never going to be better and what if Spike left him because he couldn’t even fuck him any more?  Ten minutes asleep and he was untearful, unmiserable, and everything felt better.  And harder.  Definitely harder.  He was calmly, peacefully, confident that Spike was his, and the minute the vampire made it into the bedroom Xander was going to claim some blood and prove it for several hours.

The front door slammed and that had to mean Spike was on his way.  At last.  At last.  Oh, God, WANT HIM!

“Xaaaaander.  Oh, Xaaaaander,” Spike sing-songed as he prowled up the stairs and along the hallway.  “Coming to get ya.”  He could hear Xander stifling giggles and he felt such joy it was barely repressible.  He pulled off his t-shirt and was undoing the fly of his jeans as he entered the room.

Xander drank in the sight, heart pounding, skin tingling in anticipation and…  I have him.  He’s mine.  That’s Spike and I’ve fucked him.  I’ve been inside him and come inside him and I claimed him.  He’s mine.  He’s beautiful and I’m allowed to fuck him and oh, God, I want him.  Mine.

Stripping off, Spike crawled into the end of the bed, worked his way up Xander’s fidgeting body until they were face-to-face.

“Xander,” he smiled.

“Spike,” was smiled back.

Xander looked…right.  Xander smelt…right.  Xander felt…  Bloody.  Fucking.  Hell.  …exquisite.  Spike kissed Xander hard, without the hesitation he’d feared might come about through…  Ah, fuck that, ain’t going to happen!  Xander held him in a vice-like grip, tangling their limbs, grinding his at last hard cock up against the deliciously cool body.  Spike moaned pleasurably, almost having forgotten how hot, in every sense, his human was.

“So, you want your Spike, do you?”

“God, yes,” Xander responded to the growled question with more ardent kisses.

“What are you ready for?”

“Anything.  Everything.  Please, Spike.”

“You really that much better?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No pain?”

“Uh-uh.”

Kisses, tongues, skin, heat, grinding.

“Want me to ride you?”  The response was an unintelligible noise that Spike’s multi-lingual skills interpreted as an enthusiastic affirmative.  “Gonna be so tight, Xander.  Think you might like that?”

“Fuck.”

“That’s the idea.”

“It’s going to be over so fast.”

“I don’t care.  Long as I have you.  Long as you’re here.”

As if by unspoken agreement they stopped moving, staring at one another in love and awe.  Slow smiles, and lust was forgotten as they relaxed against one another, holding on tight, relishing the security and togetherness.

And the beautiful, tender moment lasted all of thirty seconds before they were tumbling back into mindless fuck mode, Spike throwing off the covers as he was urgently pushed in the direction of Xander’s highly excitable cock.

“No good, I can’t wait.  Do this for me,” Xander begged, “then…then blood, and I‘ll fuck you, suck you, anything you want, as often, please, Spike, do this, please, sweetheart, pleasepleasepleaseSpike…”

Xander yelled in delight as Spike’s mouth surrounded his erection, feeling icy cold on his flushed skin; Spike’s fingers dug into his buttocks and encouraged him to move, and he thrust up hard into the wetness.  Once Xander had the message, Spike wrapped an arm around the jerking hips to stop himself being thrown off because Xander was at it like a jackhammer.  The vampire’s free hand went to play with Xander’s balls and ass, and Xander groaned and growled, hands wrapping around a bar of the headboard, a leg bending, foot on the bed to give himself leverage as he fucked Spike’s mouth.  Then Spike shifted, took the head of Xander’s cock deep into his throat, tightened his grip to keep him still and held him there.  He felt Xander’s wired expectancy and made him wait for a few seconds until he was shaking with anticipation.  Wickedly, Spike grinned around that desperate, twitching flesh.  Swallowed.  Another yell as Xander came, thrusting again, repeatedly driving himself into that tight throat until he collapsed with exhaustion.

“Oh,” Xander managed to fit between heaving breaths.  “Oh, I needed that.”

What the fuck happened when I left the room?  What did Patrick do, what could he do?  Spike released the cock he’d continued lovingly suckling.

“You have such an excellent prick, Xander.”  Xander laughed, more from relief than humour.  “Up to more?”

“Gimme a couple of minutes and some blood.”

“Sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m great. No pain at all and I’m so damn horny.  New drugs are working well and the old ones must’ve worn off.  Finally.”  Spike casually laid his head on Xander’s stomach and listened.  “I must sound okay, I mean, I feel…”

“Shh!”

“But…”

“Shut up, Xander.”  Xander fell silent and Spike concentrated, heard nothing questionable, turned his face and kissed Xander’s skin.  “Okay, talk.”

“I was getting really worried, Spike.  I’d started to think I’d never get hard again.”

“Not a problem.  I’d’ve found a couple of twigs in the garden and made a splint.”

“Would you have stayed with me if I couldn’t fuck you?”

“Remember what I said earlier?  About being intelligent but asking daft questions?”

“Tell me you never considered it.”

Spike knelt up, hand caressing Xander’s semi-erection.

“All right, I thought about it.  Not leaving you, but you not being able to get it up.”

“And?”

“And that’s what mojo’s for,” Spike grinned.  “One of magic’s areas of excellence, getting people fucking against all odds.”

“I’ll remember that for emergencies.”  Getting people fucking, people fucking, Spike fucking, fucking, fucking.  “Can I have some blood now?”

“I’m not sure we should…”

“Please, sweetheart, let me in you,” Xander coaxed, his voice low and seductive, and Spike melted.  “Let me fu…  I want to make love with you.  We’ll stop if there’s a problem, but can we try?  Look at you, look how hard you are.”  Xander reached out; Spike moved so Xander’s hand could play with his cock.  “I want to see you come for me, Spike.  Want to fuck you and see you come just because I’m in you.  Come without a touch.”

“That’s going to happen the minute you feed from me.”  He looked down to where Xander was stroking him.  “If I last that long.”

Xander’s hand travelled up the vampire’s body until his fingertips caught in the gold chain, using it to draw Spike over him.  He nuzzled the long-neglected claimant’s mark and heard, felt, Spike’s shuddering inhalation; a hand pushed into Xander’s hair and cradled his head, taking away the strain of achieving the angle to bite.

“I’ll take my blood from here?”

“Please, love,” Spike panted.  “I’ve missed it.  The marking.  Claiming.  Missed you.”  Xander gave the mark a few loving kisses.  “Don’t tease.  Not this time.  Do it, Xander, do it.  Make me yours.”

“Okay, shh, shh.”

Xander mouthed the old scar, finding the exact area he wanted, then he sank his teeth into the skin, as gently as the act would allow.  Spike twisted his head away, offering, keening, and as Xander took his first swallow of blood and groaned with the effect, the vampire went rigid and Xander felt a flood of cold on his stomach.  That horny sensation and a second swallow and Xander was fired.  He licked the mark as the bleeding stopped, feeling Spike’s cock hard against his own: they were so ready for this.

“I’m yours, Xander.”

“All mine,” Xander agreed as he manoeuvred for a kiss.  “Love you, sweetheart.  Love you and want you.”

“Fuck me now?”

“Fuck you now.  Fuck you all night.”

Spike let out a frustrated groan and skimmed down Xander’s body, pausing to lick away his own semen that coated the flat belly, before taking Xander’s cock in his mouth once more.  Hips moving out of habit, Xander used the cool orifice more gently this time, enjoying the attention selfishly for a few minutes.

“Thank you,” he murmured.  “For coming back to me.  Sunnydale.  Thank you.”

Spike’s head lifted and he rubbed his chin against the hard flesh.

“My pleasure.”  He laid a trail of kisses along the shaft.  “Never questioned being together, did we?  Later, here, when William pissed off and I was back.”

Xander ran his fingers through Spike’s hair as he thought about that.

“You’re right.  Do you mind that I assumed…”

“We assumed,” Spike insisted.  “After I came to that morning, I smelt you and couldn’t wait to fuck you.  It never occurred to me that I couldn’t.”

“Another helping of ‘what will be’,” Xander smiled.  More thought and the smile slipped away.  “I should have let you fuck me, I mean really fuck me, in me, the first time you wanted to.  You remember?  When we came back from looking over the house?”

“I’m glad you didn’t.  I would’ve…  Contaminated you, fouled you, spread their filth into you.  …regretted it later.”

“Seriously?”  Spike nodded.  Xander gave a sudden laugh and Spike quirked an eyebrow.  “When you get over this I’m never gonna get to fuck you again, am I?”

Spike grinned and crawled back up Xander’s body.

“You’re joking, mate.  Don’t intend to give up anything as sweet as being fucked by you.”  He gently bit Xander’s neck and growled.  “Speaking of which…?”

Xander ran his hands between then, gently grasping Spike’s cock and balls, massaging and teasing, sliding the foreskin up and down as Spike gave an aroused shiver.

“What’s it like?  To have a foreskin?”

“What’s it like not to have one?” Spike countered.

“I wish I’d had a choice.”

“Maybe we can get you a transplant,” Spike suggested with a smirk, pulling himself away and moving to the foot of the bed.

“Hey, where you going?”

“Calming down.”

“I don’t want you to calm down,” Xander protested.  “I want you un-calm and screaming for more.”

“We’ll have that conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“The one where I turn up in place of Billy-boy and you beg me to stay.”

“You don’t think it’s a little late for that?”  Spike waited expectantly.  “Okay.”

Xander sat up, easily, no pain at all, and he barely acknowledged that.  He rearranged the pillows and sat back against the headboard.  The move uncovered a tube of lubricant and Xander picked it up, showed it very deliberately to Spike, then laid it down beside him.

“Okay,” Xander repeated.  “Spike.”  The vampire became all big-eyed and attentive, and Xander grinned at him.  “You’re so much more convincing at aloof and disinterested.”

“Shut up and talk to me.”  Now Xander did the eyebrow thing and Spike replayed what he’d said.  “Talk to me about what I want you to talk to me about.”

“You want I should beg you to stay?”  Nod.  “Because…?”

“I deserve it.”

“Can I use physical persuasion?”

“No.”

“Okay,” for a third time.  Xander fell silent as he remembered the day Spike ‘woke’.  He recalled the awful panic when he found Spike gone and thought he’d lost him again.  The painful joy when he’d been proved wrong.  It was all horribly fresh and he didn’t want to go there.  Tearful eyes turned to Spike.  “I can’t live without you.”

Spike was up and straddling his lap in less than a second, tugging him into a hug.

“Don’t, Xander, don’t.  I wasn’t looking for this.”

“We went through all that and then we almost fucked it up again.  I’m so sorry I told you to…”

“Not again, love.”

“It’s like we’re getting more stupid as we go along.  Even with the total sum of our knowledge and experience, we still can’t tick all the boxes.”

Spike tilted Xander’s head up and kissed him.

“Beg me to stay.”

“Stay.  Please.”

“That’ll do, I’m staying.  Got yourself this perfect specimen of manly beauty for life.”

Xander’s hands caressed Spike’s thighs.

“You are.  Perfectly beautiful.”

Lust sparked in Spike’s eyes and he pulled back slightly.

“Right, almost calm.  Won’t be able to do this if I’m really hard.”

Xander watched curiously, wincing, as Spike heavy-handedly grasped his own cock and deliberately stretched his foreskin…

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Only in a nice way.”

“You’re weird.”

“Only in a nice way.”

…and, taking Xander in hand, touched their cocks tip to tip and eased the loosened skin of his cock over the bare head of Xander’s.

“Oh,” was about all that Xander could manage by way of a comment, providing they ignored the subsequent unrecognisable attempt at any known language that emerged as Spike began to rub the newly covered glans.  It took only seconds until they were both too hard for this to work and the skin slid back to its regular horny-vampire location, leaving their parting members joined by only a glistening strand of their combined fluids.

“Nice?” Spike casually enquired, voice breaking into delighted laughter as Xander threw him back onto the bed and pounced, sucking his cock like a maniac as he fumbled with the lube and slicked his fingers.

Spike hissed with pleasure as he was roughly breached, pulling his legs up to his chest, blatantly exposing himself in encouragement.  Withdrawing from Spike’s cock, Xander turned his head and bit into a muscular thigh, feeling the tremor it caused and feeling smug that he could cause that reaction with such a simple act.  Another hiss that transformed into a gasp as Xander sucked a ball into his mouth, pulling the one finger out and sending it back with a couple of slippery friends.  A slight shift and Xander’s free hand could creep up to pinch Spike’s nipples, inciting more desperate little noises.  Xander returned to Spike’s cock to lap up the pulses of pre-come that emerged as his fingers worked the vampire’s hot spot, leaving Spike begging to be fucked, grabbing at Xander in an attempt to bring him into a shag-friendly position.

“No rush,” Xander insisted as he defied Spike, probing and lapping, probing and lapping.

“There is a fucking rush!”

“Yeah?  Then ask me nicely.”

“Fuck me or I’ll break your legs.”  Xander laughed and carefully withdrew his fingers.  “Empty,” Spike narrated.  “Empty, empty, hate it, fill me.  Fill me, Xander.”

As Xander moved into position Spike leant up on his elbows and gazed down their bodies, staring at Xander’s cock as it made its approach, almost coming from the glorious anticipation before he saw and felt it brush against his opening.  He squeezed his eyes shut, falling back onto the mattress as Xander teasingly rubbed the drooling head of his erection over Spike’s perineum, nudging at his tightening balls, back down to probe, almost enter, slip away, up, down, around.

“You want to see a vampire cry?” Spike gasped.

“I want to hear a vampire scream,” Xander corrected.

With that, Xander thrust himself into Spike's body, unbearably aroused by the responsive buck and cry that met his action, hoping that Spike was as similarly close to his climax, wanting them to come together.  Giving in to his lust he pounded into Spike, aware of the legs that encircled him adding more pressure to this thrusts.

“Not gonna last,” Xander ground out through clenched teeth.

Spike drew breath to speak but found himself speechless, overwhelmed by the sensations Xander always managed to produce in him, physically, emotionally, as he was taken and repossessed by that wonderful club of a cock.  Then another ingredient entered the mix as Xander dipped to kiss him, claiming Spike’s mouth as he did his body, tongue probing and sharing the flavour of his own juices.  Spike hummed with pleasure at the significance, the thought of Xander on him, in him, at him, and he was breaking the kiss to allow them both to gulp in air as he jerked himself viciously up onto Xander’s cock, complementing Xander’s ecstatic yell of release with one of his own as they were filled and spattered, heated and chilled.

They slumped.  Panted.  Throbbed.  Xander could feel his heartbeat in every vital inch of him and wondered if Spike felt it too, if it was as close as Spike came to a heartbeat inside his dead body.  Ultimately, it wasn’t an important enough question to bother expending the energy to ask and Xander redirected his attention to the vital business of passing out.

“Missed you.  Xander.  Missed you,” brought Xander back from the brink of a post-coital nap.

Xander leant up and gently stroked Spike’s face, smoothing away the troubled frown he found there.

“It’s all right, everything’s fine, back to normal.  You don’t have to miss me anymore.”

A tender kiss and Xander began to move away.  Spike latched onto him and held him tightly.

“Stay.”

Xander reminded himself that he didn’t have to worry about his weight on Spike and relaxed into the hold.

“Staying.”

“More,” Spike pleaded as he began a slow roll of the hips.  “Again.  Claim me.  Fuck me.”

Totally awake now, eyes darkening with renewed desire, Xander nodded and found his mark, drawing more blood; Spike groaned his approval, running his hands over Xander’s hyper-sensitised body and enjoying the resultant tremors, feeling Xander hardening inside him and knowing the comfort of getting exactly what he wanted.

“Fucking you,” Xander whispered as he leisurely matched Spike’s continued movements.

“Oh, yeah, do it.”

“It’s like I said,” Xander grinned. “Gonna fuck you.  Fuck you.  All.  Night.”

…

The women arrived back home just before one, tipsy and falling up the porch step and trying to be quiet which naturally made every move twice as loud as normal.  In the hallway Willow launched into a fresh barrage of shushing.

“Don’t wake them up.  Spike will be down, all mad and grr if we disturb Xander.”

“Like they’re asleep,” Dawn sniggered.

“Despite rumours to the contrary, they do occasionally use their bed for sleeping.”

“Can we go up and sneak a look?  Listen?”

“You are not getting me upstairs now,” Buffy insisted, in the living room and setting herself firmly in an armchair, body language declaring she was there for the foreseeable future.  “Seeing, I can avoid.  Hearing, not so easy.  Distance is good.”

“Observe the sentinel of moral standards,” Dawn tried to say with a straight face as she made worshipful gestures, getting the predictable big sister scowl in response.  “And how is that?  You don’t even want to hear but I want to watch.”

“Dawn!”

“And I thought I was the watcher,” Willow giggled.

“Willow!”

“Oh, too much with the protesting.  They’re so hot.  Can’t you picture them, Buffy?  In your head right now?” Dawn teased.

“No!” Buffy insisted.  “No picturing.”

“Can’t you imagine them…”

Buffy slapped her hands over her ears and sang.  Willow positioned herself in the slayer’s field of vision and indicated that she and Dawn were going up.  Buffy nodded, dropping her hands as sister and friend left the room.

Buffy went into the conservatory and watched the spectacular lightning show for a while before deciding TV would have something with more of a plot.  Back in the living room she picked up the remote and trawled the channels.  Find a film with no handsome men doing…things.  No, don’t think…things.  I wonder if Xander watches…  No thinking!  Dawn, you are so dead.  It didn’t take long to get involved in a slushy old chick flick and Buffy stretched out on the sofa, trying to squirm around whatever that was digging in her thigh.  No use.  With a sigh she sat back up and dug between the cushions, pulling out one of Spike’s notebooks.  No, shouldn’t look, that would be wrong and…oh, did you see?  Very accidentally dropped it and it fell open and seeing as it’s already open…  Buffy had one of Spike’s drawings on her wall at home.  A family portrait: her and Dawn and Joyce.  Spike had actually given it to Dawn two years ago, but Buffy had laid claim, bribed and pleaded until her sister had relinquished ownership.  Every time she looked at it she felt as if her mother was with her.  She’d always questioned how a creature without a soul could capture that.  Then she’d met William, however briefly, and it made more sense.

She pored her way through the pages: Xander in hospital.  Wish I could get my hands on those bastards for you, Xander.  She gently touched the image, swallowing hard.  So grateful I didn’t have to see this in the flesh.  I know it’s selfish but…  She quickly turned a page and smiled affectionately: Giles reading to Xander.  Miss you, Giles.  Then Angel, with the protective sire face.  Angel.  Buffy sighed the sigh of the besotted.  More pages: Xander out of hospital, that was better.  Propped up on a heap of pillows in bed and that was…Jake sprawled alongside him dealing cards.  Jake.  Early days.  In bed with Xander.  Observed by Spike.  And still alive.  Hmm.  Buffy moved on, finding some older pictures, healthier Xander…  Ooh, healthier, nakeder Xander, and I shouldn’t be looking, even with the pretence of artistic appreciation…  Gallantly skimming the artistically appreciable pages Buffy found a sketch drawn earlier that day: her and Dawn.  I’ll have to admit to looking just so I can ask for this.  The feel-good factor was destroyed in an instant as she found the first of Spike’s memories from his time in captivity.  It wasn’t as if she didn’t know, but seeing was nauseatingly different from hearing: no scope for denial here.  A broken hand, every joint of every finger bent in impossible ways.  Next page, Spike’s-eye view as that same mutilated hand held a tangle of gut to a gaping abdomen.  Portraits, faces she didn’t know, now faces she’d never forget.  Knee split open, patella missing.  ‘…carving out bones for souvenirs…’

“Oh, dear God.”

Captured by the fascination of the horrible, Buffy turned page after page of graphic torture, then her heart leapt painfully.  Riley.  A look of cold vindictiveness on his face that she didn’t recognise, could barely associate with her past love.  Another, and there was such cruel satisfaction in his expression that Buffy heaved, slamming the book shut and hurling it across the room.  Knee-jerk reaction aside, it gradually sank in, the fact that Riley had been a part of what happened to Spike.  He saved my sister’s life time and again and you did that to him?  He kept Dawn and my Mom safe and you did that?  It was inconceivable, at least Buffy wanted it to be inconceivable, but in the midst of the disgust and confusion she didn’t stop to wonder when Spike became the someone she could believe.  As for Riley…  Was it about me?  Did you think you were doing it for me?  Spike hurt your pride not your heart.  He wounded your pride so you…skinned him.  You…  Please, God, no.  Don’t have been a part of that.  And not because of me.  No wonder Xander hates me.  Buffy rose and slowly went to fetch the notebook, careful not to look at the pictures as she closed it for the second time in minutes.  But she couldn’t avoid seeing what was on the back cover in Xander’s handwriting: a love heart, Spike and Xander’s names arrowed together.  It was simple and touching; it was Xander before the damage was done.  That’s how Spike makes him feel.  Buffy tucked the book back between the cushions of the sofa.  No wonder Xander hates me.

On her way to bed she stopped outside Xander and Spike’s room, hoping they were still awake, listening, not caring what she heard if it could only be…not what was in her head.  She heard voices, no soft and intimate tones, simply chatter and laughter.  Before she could stop herself she knocked.

“Yeah?”

She opened the door a crack, in time to see Spike begrudgingly draping a sheet over himself.

“Can I…”

“Come in.”  Xander was sitting propped up against the headboard, supplementing the words with a gesture; Buffy edged into the room.

The musky smell of sex hung thick in the air, and that was…good.  Great.  Comforting.  That was a (tastefully edited) picture she now welcomed into her mind, so much better than shattered bones and shredded skin.

“Just wanted to see you were okay.”

“I am way up the scale of okayness,” Xander assured her with a wide, genuine smile.

“Get wet?” Spike asked, puzzled by the tear-streaked make-up.  Buffy looked a huh?  “Storm.”  Spike gestured to the window.

“No, we scampered a lot.”

Xander laughed and Buffy hurried to him before she lost her nerve, sitting close and bringing him into a hug.  Xander exchanged a confused look with Spike, tried to not feel so semi-naked and sex-fragranced, and returned the embrace.

“What’s happened?” he asked quietly.  She shook her head against his before blindly reaching out toward Spike with a flailing hand.  The vampire took it, held it, exchanged a second dumbfounded look with Xander.

“We are friends?” Buffy asked, still refusing to look at them.  “We are?  All of us?”

“Yeah, sure we are,” Spike told her warily.

“We’re okay, Buffy,” Xander agreed.  “We’re really okay.”

“And if I ever…”

“Hey, I’m doing a lot of letting go.  Near death experience and call me Mr Perspective.  I’m sorry for all the crap, but now I’m going to try acting my age and…”

“No.  I’m sorry.”

“We gonna fight over who’s sorriest now?”

“Xander.  I’m sorry.”

Xander finally got the seriousness.  He gently rubbed Buffy’s back, trying to offer a little comfort even if he didn’t understand what it was for.

“For anything in particular?”  Nod.  “Are you going to tell us…”  Shake.  “Should we be worried?”  Shake.  “Past?”  Nod.

She squeezed Spike’s hand, a hand that was strong, room temperature, contained a complete set of bones and was thankfully covered in skin.

“I’m sorry, Spike.”

Deciding to act Xander’s age too, Spike acknowledged the gesture graciously.

“Apology accepted for…whatever it is you’re on about.”

“All-encompassing forgiveness here, can’t be bad.  Any chance you’d like to give us a hint…”  Shake.  “Oh.  Okay.”  Pause.  “Okay.”

Buffy sat back; still no eye contact.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Right.  And tomorrow?”  A final shake of the head and Buffy started for the door.  “Tomorrow I guess we won’t be talking about this.”

Buffy stopped dead as she clutched the door handle, took a deep breath, turned back and looked.  That was Xander Harris, vampire-hater extraordinaire, in bed with William the Bloody.  William the Bloody, who had already leant close enough to Xander Harris to nuzzle his shoulder in an understated yet open display of true affection.

“Buffy?”

“Love,” she stated baldly.

“Yes,” Xander confirmed, frowning slightly, evidently worried by her behaviour.  She almost broke down when she saw the old Xander in his eyes: the affection and concern for her was unmistakeably sincere, and once again she was lost for words.

Spike turned to face Buffy, leaning his head against Xander’s shoulder and smirking.

“Sorry, slayer, you’ve missed the last show.  Turn up tomorrow with your fifty quid and I’ll make sure you get ringside.”

The comment barely scratched the surface.  Buffy nodded absently and left.

The two men remained in thoughtful silence for some time.

“So…” Xander eventually spoke from the depths of his bafflement.  “What was that about?”

“Haven’t a clue.  But if I’d known she was going to agree I’d’ve upped the price.”

“You’re just lucky that was Buffy not Dawn.”

“No, you’re lucky it was Buffy and not Dawn.”

“She’s playing, right?  Dawn?  After all this time she has to be playing.”  Spike just grinned.  “It’s the two of you, isn’t it?  You worked it out together.”

“No, love, it’s obviously just a flaw in the construction.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Xander told Spike uncomfortably.

“Right.  No flaws, no construction, just all those rampant Xander-fixated hormones keeping her hot and ready and wet—”

Xander’s hand slapped over Spike’s mouth.

“Nuh and huh!”

Spike wriggled flat and pulled Xander over his body, chuckling to himself behind the hand.  The sheet was torn away and they were brought together, flesh upon flesh, bodies falling into a familiar movement as they teased one another with hardening cocks.  Xander’s hand slid to the back of Spike’s head to bring him into a long kiss.  But Spike had to ask before lust pushed it from his mind:

“Xander…”

“Mmm?”

“Did you mean it?  The letting go?”

“Want to fuck you,” was murmured into the vampire’s neck, tickle of breath turning the smooth skin to gooseflesh.

Spike shivered at the sensation and eased him away a few inches.

“I know, love, but first…”

Xander stopped with a hard-done-by sigh, letting Spike gently roll him onto his back and straddle him.

“Does it matter?”

“Course.”  Spike wriggled into place, feeling the sensation in every nerve ending as Xander slid easily into his semen-slicked body.  He took the offered hands and began to slowly rock.  “It matters…because being mad…at Buffy…hurts you.  FuckXanderyoufeelsogood.”

“Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, beginning a languorous rise and fall.

“Do something for me?”

“Anything but stop.”

Xander grinned wickedly.

“Scream my name.  This time, you scream my name.  If anyone’s listening that’s what I want them to hear.”

Spike laughed down at Xander.

“More claiming?  You’ll be pissing over my boots next.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

Repossession 60       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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