NOTHING
IS FOREVER 11
by
flaming
muse
Spike was leaning against the wall in Xander's hallway
when Xander got home from work the next evening. Lounging next to the door to
the apartment, he was flicking his lighter on and off but not actually smoking.
He raised his head and gave a half-smile when Xander came up the
stairs.
"How did you get in?" Xander asked to keep himself from saying
something completely stupid. It wasn't that he was unhappy to see Spike, but he
wasn't sure quite what had gone on between them, apart from the writhing around
and the naked bodies and the orgasming. He had hoped to have some time to sort
things out before their paths crossed again.
Nearly late for work because
he hadn't set the alarm and then caught up in pulling down water-damaged plaster
ceilings all day, Xander he hadn't had time to think about what had happened or
the fact that he had woken up alone, with the comforter over him and the light
switched off. The alone didn't surprise him, but the consideration that Spike
had shown did.
Spike had even left a message on the Snoopy notepad by
Xander's kitchen phone. Of course, it had said Don't want to be the sort to
leave without a note. I'm off. Will try to remember to buy you some proper
notepaper, but he had still left one.
Xander felt like he was
floundering, trying and failing to understand this new Spike, and he couldn't
seem to get a hold on what was happening. Sure, they had now had two undeniably
hot encounters, but the whole talking part of whatever their relationship was
wasn't going quite so well. He had hoped to be able to think a bit about what
was going on, but Spike was here again, this time entirely of his own volition,
and there was no way that Xander could turn him away.
"Door was open
again. I wanted to try out your big telly," Spike said, pushing away from the
wall. "Thinking of buying one, myself, but I thought I should watch yours first
to see if it was worth it."
"What - is there a game on you want to see?"
Xander unlocked his door and let Spike follow him inside.
Spike
shrugged.
"You've got lots of channels; I can find
something."
Xander was too tired to argue and wasn't sure that he wanted
to anyway. He shrugged off his coat and sighed as a shower of plaster particles
drifted to his carpet.
"Make yourself at home. There's beer in the
fridge. I'm going to take a shower."
"You do look a bit ghostly over
there." Spike wandered over toward the couch.
"You have no idea," said
Xander. "I've probably got plaster between my toes there was so much of it in
the air today."
Spike grunted and picked up the remote.
"Want me
to turn it on for you?" Xander asked.
"I'm sure I can figure it out,"
said Spike. He pulled off his leather jacket, the short one this time, and
slumped onto the couch.
"Okay." Xander stood dumbly for a moment and
watched Spike inspect the buttons on the remote and ignore him
entirely.
There were too many questions to ask and too much plaster in
his ears, so Xander focused on his immediate needs and headed toward the
bathroom. He turned on the shower and undressed quickly, shoving his clothes
into the laundry bag in the bedroom so that the pale dust wouldn't turn to paste
from the steam. When he was safely back in the bathroom he took off his eye
patch, cleaned it with a damp towel, and laid it on the sink.
When the
water was hot enough, he stepped under the spray and closed his eye, letting the
sweat and plaster slide off of his body and disappear down the drain. He rolled
his shoulder and neck and let some of the tension in his muscles dissipate under
the relentless blast of warm water. Once his skin was no longer coated with a
layer of solidified dust, he grabbed the soap and began to clean himself more
thoroughly.
He wasn't trying to think of Spike while he washed, but his
body had reacted to the sight of the vampire, and his mind flashed back to their
activities of the previous night. As he scrubbed himself, he remembered the fire
in Spike's eyes when they kissed, the feel of that hard erection against his
stomach, the groans of satisfaction as their movements had
intensified.
Xander let out a groan himself and tried to ignore his own
growing erection. It's not like he could relieve his arousal in the shower when
Spike was in the living room, but he sure as hell couldn't go back out there in
this state. It was too embarrassing, if also likely to lead him to making bad
decisions. Spending time with Spike was tricky enough; he didn't need to add his
rampant hormones into the mix.
So he kept his hands well above his waist
and shampooed his hair. He tried to think of boring things, like schedules and
time sheets, but he was having little luck calming his body by the time he
ducked his head under the spray to rinse away the suds. He stood with his face
tilted up into the water and debated the merits of masturbation with a vampire
nearby versus facing said vampire with a raging hard-on. Neither seemed like a
good option.
He nearly leapt out of his skin when something cool traced
his spine from neck to waist.
"Geaaagh!" he cried, twisting around
halfway and then whirling back so that his face was hidden. His feet slid on the
bottom of the tub, and he grabbed the wall to keep himself upright. "Spike! Are
you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"You look much nicer when you're
not all white and pasty," Spike said, running his hands over Xander's back. "Wet
and slippery is even better."
"What are you doing in here?" Xander asked.
As much as he wanted to drink in the sight of an equally naked, wet, and
slippery Spike, he kept his face turned away.
"I was sitting on the couch
watching some idiots blather on about chuff all and couldn't stop thinking about
what we could be doing in here together. I see you started without me," Spike
said, pressing close and running his hands along Xander's hips and down his
thighs. One thumb brushed along Xander's erection, and Xander drew in a sharp
breath.
"God, Spike..."
"Were you thinking of me?" Spike trailed
his tongue along Xander's shoulder and up his neck.
Xander wasn't sure
that he could think at all, not with Spike hard against his back and Spike's
hands wandering over his chest and stomach. Somehow the question filtered
through to his brain, and he couldn't possibly come up with a
lie.
"Yes."
"What were you thinking about?" Spike asked. The
fingers of one hand began to trace over one of Xander's nipples, while the other
began to move lower on Xander's abdomen.
"You. Touching you. You touching
me."
"I am touching you."
Xander shuddered as water-warmed
fingers slid over his erection and formed a loose channel around it. He
desperately wanted to kiss Spike, to press him into the wall and devour him, but
he couldn't - wouldn't - turn around.
"Look, can you just give me a
minute? I'll be done in a sec, and then we could go to the bedroom or
something..."
"I like it here," said Spike, tightening his grip around
Xander's cock and stroking it once, twice. "Don't you like it?"
"Oh,
yeah, I..." Xander groaned as Spike quickened his pace slightly.
"Fuck."
"We'll get there. Be patient." He nibbled on Xander's earlobe and
slid the hand on his chest to play with the other nipple.
Unable to
remember quite why he wanted this attention to stop, Xander reached back and
gripped Spike's hips, pulling him more firmly against him. They both sucked in a
breath as Spike's erection was cradled by Xander's buttocks and slid up toward
the small of his back.
"Yes, definitely like you slippery," said Spike.
He kissed Xander's shoulder and pressed in harder, crowding Xander against the
wall and rubbing against him as he slowly jerked him off.
Xander let his
head fall back on Spike's shoulder, keeping the scarred side of his face turned
away, and clutched Spike's hip with one hand while he balanced against the wall
with the other. The vampire stroked his erection and slid his other hand
possessively across his chest and stomach. Spike's pace was achingly slow, but
the twist of his fingers and the smooth slide of his thumb across the tip were
so perfect that Xander's legs were shaking with the strain of standing
still.
He didn't seem to be the only one lost in sensation. Spike's face
was buried against Xander's neck, and the slickness between Xander's buttocks
was from more than just water. Spike slid against him as he pulled and caressed,
and Xander could feel the head of Spike's shaft gliding along his skin with
every tilt of his hips.
"Want you," Spike murmured just beneath his ear.
His hand tightened around Xander's cock.
Xander groaned and pulled Spike
closer.
"Bedroom?" he asked hoarsely. He opened his eye and tried to
blink away the haze of lust that was clouding his vision.
"You got a
problem with your shower, mate? It looks pretty clean to me, and the water's
nice and hot."
"No, I..."
Spike slid his free hand down to cup
Xander's balls, and the concept of independent thought flew out of Xander's
brain.
"You sure? You seem awfully interested in getting out." Spike
pulled and tugged just hard enough, and Xander's eyelid slammed shut as he
locked his knees and tried to keep himself from coming. "You want me to leave
first?"
Spike's hands loosened, and Xander shook his head and tightened
his grip on Spike's hip.
"No!" he said quickly.
Spike's rumble of
laughter sent pulses of eager anticipation up Xander's spine.
"Right
then. Hands on the wall." Spike released him and stepped back.
"Huh?"
Dazed and lost without Spike's arms around him, Xander heard the rustle of the
shower curtain behind him.
"Put your hands on the wall." Spike said more
slowly. He returned and slid his hands down Xander's arms until he got to his
wrists. He pushed Xander forward and placed the palms of his hands on the tiles.
Nudging Xander's legs apart with his knee, he murmured in his ear, "Now stay
there."
Xander dipped his head and let his hair fall into his face as he
listened to Spike behind him. He heard the snap of a cap and wondered in
confusion if Spike was going to brush his teeth.
A slick finger slid
between his buttocks, and Xander's head shot upwards.
"What are you...?"
he asked, breaking off with a gasp as the pad of one finger brushed over his
perineum and the tight opening beyond. "That had better not be
toothpaste."
Spike laughed again.
"Raided your nightstand before I
came in," he said, slowing rubbing that finger over Xander's sensitive skin.
"Never tried toothpaste before. Any good?"
"Let's not find out," said
Xander, dropping his head again and pressing his fingers into the
tiles.
Spike's finger kept moving, sliding back and forth over his pucker
until Xander was rocking with the motion. He had a brief moment of distress when
Spike turned away again, but his finger returned quickly and even more
slippery.
"Okay?" Spike asked. He slid his free hand up Xander's chest
and held him close when Xander nodded. His finger began to press, gently at
first and then harder until the ring of muscle opened and accepted him
inside.
Xander groaned at the intrusion, relishing the slight burn and
the feel of the tip of Spike's finger.
"Good?" Spike's voice was a harsh
whisper, and his arm was locked around Xander's chest.
"Yes. More.
Please."
"I'm right here. Take what you want." He pressed a kiss to the
nape of Xander's neck.
Squeezing his eye shut, Xander braced himself
against the wall and pushed back against Spike's hand. The finger slid easily
inside, and he trembled at the rush of pleasure that spread through his
body.
"God, you're so tight," said Spike, panting against his shoulder.
"So bloody tight."
"Don't do this a lot," Xander admitted.
Spike
grunted and twisted his finger, sending sparks cascading through Xander's
abdomen.
"But you are for me." His voice was husky as he crooked his
finger slightly and turned it again. "You're doing this for me. Feel good to
you?"
"Yes. God, yes." He could feel Spike's knuckles working against
him, and he pushed back harder. They both groaned, and Spike rocked his erection
against Xander's hip. "More."
Spike carefully removed his hand and
released Xander briefly before sliding back into place and pushing two slick
fingers inside.
Xander took in a shuddering breath and forced himself to
relax as Spike slowly pressed inwards. He had been telling the truth; he didn't
do this often, and he wasn't used to it. Spike was being careful, though, and it
felt absolutely incredible.
"I can feel you opening for me," Spike said,
resting his forehead on Xander's shoulder blade. Xander widened his stance, and
Spike thrust deeper. "You're taking me in. Fuck, Xander. You're...
Fuck."
Panting and desperately hard, Xander groaned as Spike spread his
fingers and twisted his hand. It felt like every nerve in his body was being
touched, and he rocked back into the movements, trying to take more, to feel
Spike further inside. He swore as Spike found the spot that sent fireworks
exploding behind his eyes, and they moved together as Xander's body stretched
and quaked around Spike's fingers.
"Ready for more?" Spike
asked.
"Fuck, yes!"
The arm that had been holding Xander so
tightly loosened and slid downwards. Slippery with water and the pre-cum
drooling from Xander's cock, Spike's hand began to pull gently on Xander's
erection as he carefully pushed a third finger inside. The burning increased
enough to cause Xander to tense, but the stimulation on his shaft kept his
arousal high despite the discomfort.
"Okay?"
"Don't stop," Xander
said, bearing down on the fingers and feeling his head spinning with an
intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. He felt his muscles loosening as he grew
used to the intrusion.
Murmuring words of praise and delight, Spike kept
stroking until Xander was writhing and fucking himself on his fingers and into
his hand. Backwards or forwards, either way sent sharp splinters of arousal
through his body, and he felt like he was going to be ripped apart by the
pleasure.
"Fuck, Spike, I don't know about you," he managed to say in
panting breaths, "but I'm pretty sure I'm going to die if you're not in me
soon."
Spike laughed, this time with an edge of desperation, and bit
gently on the side of Xander's neck.
"Can't have that, can we?" He pulled
out his fingers and shifted to stand behind Xander. The blunt head of his cock
brushed along the crack and against the back of Xander's balls before finding
the right spot. Holding Xander's hips with both hands, Spike pushed slowly
inside.
Words were beyond Xander. He was being filled, and it was
Spike, and he was so goddamn aroused that he wanted to scream with
frustration and joy at the same time. It was too slow, too careful, and he
couldn't wait another minute. He pressed backwards and took Spike in as deep as
he could.
Groaning, they both went still, and Xander could feel Spike's
fingers repeatedly tensing and relaxing as they gripped his hips.
"You
are so hot, Xander. Tight and slick and... fuck!" Spike rocked forward, pushing
in further, and they moaned in unison.
Spike slid one hand forward and
gripped Xander's cock again. He pulled out and thrust in hard, and then he
repeated the motion. As he fucked Xander, Xander fucked Spike's hand, and the
feeling of being pushed open and sliding in that expert grip all at once was
perfect, more than perfect. Xander bowed his head, braced himself, and got lost
in the rhythm and the bright bursts of pleasure that crashed over
him.
Good things never lasted, in Xander's experience, and this was no
exception. As much as he wanted this moment to last for a lifetime he spiraled
inexorably toward his orgasm. Spike's desperate grunts and rapid thrusts showed
that he was equally close, and the thought of what he was doing and who he was
doing it with was enough to send Xander's release surging out of him. He fell
forward, and Spike pinned him to the wall, thrusting deep inside of him a few
more times before groaning his name and collapsing against his back.
The
cool surface of the tile and the cooling water running over them were enough to
keep Xander from sliding into unconsciousness, but he couldn't do more than gasp
for breath and lean against the wall as the world spun lazily around
him.
Spike stirred first, pulling out gently and patting Xander's hip.
Xander was tensing for the inevitable battle about turning around for some
post-orgasmic kisses when to his surprise Spike stepped out of the
tub.
"Ready for some dinner?" Spike asked, sounding satisfied and
cheerful and entirely unconcerned that they had just fucked each other's brains
out for the first time in his bathroom. "There's a Cary Grant movie
on."
"Uh..."
"You clean up. I'll order dinner."
Before
Xander could answer, Spike had left the room.
His ears still ringing from
his orgasm, Xander washed quickly in the lukewarm water and turned off the
shower. His body was pleasantly achy as he dried off and pulled his eye patch
back on over his damp hair. He tugged on a t-shirt and sweatpants and wandered
out to the living room.
"Dinner's on its way," Spike said. He was damp
and appealingly rumpled, dressed only in jeans, and he handed Xander a beer.
"You still like pizza, right?"
"Yeah." Xander sat on the couch and tried
to pull his thoughts together while Spike flicked through channels. He was too
tired and too sated to figure out what the hell was going on and why he felt
both peaceful and hollow, and his brain gave up. He was actually drifting into
sleep when there was a knock on the door.
"I'll get it," said Spike. He
sauntered over to the door and dealt with the delivery person, giving him money
from a shiny black wallet.
Just like old times, Xander thought.
Paying for dinner with my money... Hey, wait, my wallet is
brown.
"Did you just buy dinner?" he asked.
"Yeah." Spike
placed the boxes on the kitchen counter and began to open cupboard
doors.
"We should split it."
"Why? I've got money."
"Yeah,
but..."
"Consider it reciprocation."
"For what? For all of those
times you mooched off of me or for services rendered?" Xander asked, trying for
but not quite achieving a grin.
"I never mooched. And what services
rendered? As I recall, you just stood there while I did all the
work."
Xander knew that Spike was joking; he could see it in his eyes,
but that didn't stop the hurt from blooming in his chest. He looked away,
unwilling to show how stupidly vulnerable he was. He was just tired, that's
all.
"I meant reciprocation for all the money you spend at the
restaurant, you git," Spike said, suddenly beside him with a plate of pizza.
"Nothing more."
"Okay."
"It's just dinner, Xander."
"Yeah.
Okay." He accepted the food and the unspoken apology.
They ate their
dinner in silence, and Xander slumped back against the cushions when he was
done. He didn't mean to be rude, but he could feel the consciousness bleeding
out of his ears as Spike flipped channels and grumbled about old movies being
edited by the networks. Before he could wake up enough to apologize for his
fatigue, it was morning, the television was off, he was covered in a blanket,
and he was alone.
There was a small pad of paper on the coffee table in
front of him, and he smiled as he picked it up. It was obviously a Hallowe'en
leftover and was decorated with a border of black and orange
skeletons.
I'm off, the note read in Spike's precise handwriting.
Nice TV. Like your shower even better.
PART
12
