Collective Experience: part one
by Josie_h
Notes

 

Sacramento ….Jan 1 2010

 

The flight had been delightful in the end. The reunited couple quickly becoming favorites for the crew as the lovers’ good spirits permeated the cabin. Somewhere over Kansas (or Illanois) the champagne was replaced by an apparently endless supply of fine cognac, coffee and a selection of chocolates. Xander was relieved to note that they had followed sundown, and at the terminal were able to ‘exit the building’ without concern.

 

The trip from the airport to ‘home’ had been strangely quiet. Xander worried that his newly established lover might not approve of… whatever it was people disapproved of in these circumstances… his job, his home, the ‘working day’ rather than the ‘holiday Xander’ of the last few days. As he pushed open the pale solid wood door and invited his guest in, the worry intensified to panic.

 

His apartment was exemplary – for an upwardly mobile, successful, very single (and now confirmed gay) guy in Sacramento. Devoid of the detritus usually indicating loving habitation, it was neat to the point of being a magazine feature.

 

“Bloody hell Xan you’re worse than me sire! Do I need to take off m’ shoes at the door or should I just stand here ‘til you de-louse me so’s I meet your approval!”

 

Xander’s back was to his friend when the statement came, but fortunately heard the mirth in the statement. When he turned, the friendly grin and customary snort from Spike was all Xander needed to confirm that he was worrying about the wrong things. Spike had come to be with him, and was probably the least likely person to care about the sterile, or otherwise, state of his abode.

 

Almost to emphasize this point, what followed was a progressive ‘de-clothing’ and consequent ‘untidying’ of the apartment as Spike launched himself at his tense partner and proceeded to kiss and undress him as they made their way to Xander’s neutral tone bedroom.

 

A short time later, lying on the large bed, spooned by his smaller companion in a haze of ‘coming down’, Xander smiled contentedly – making a silent wish to whoever might be listening, that the emotional roller coaster ride of the last few days – and particularly the angst in the past twenty four hours - would be an aberration and not indicative of a pattern for the rest of the year.

 

>>>>>>>

 

The next morning did not start too smoothly. Xander had woken to Spike’s yelp of pain, the smell of singed flesh and a vampire scrambling over him to the relative safety of the dark corner near the side table.

 

Both of them had checked the curtains the previous night but failed to notice that though Xander’s south facing picture windows were well covered, the rising eastern sun had crept through a tiny crack caused by a discarded piece of clothing at the very end of the track.

 

Xander sprinted to shut out the lethal sunshine, then turned to his cowering friend who, he noted, was currently in game face gently licking the burnt hand and arm in an effort to both calm himself and accelerate healing.

 

Xander raced to the kitchen, threw some ice into a towel and returned to sit beside the injured vampire, handed him the cool towel then pushed his wrist under Spike’s nose. Spike pulled back with a look of embarrassment in the golden eyes, and mumbled a hurt “’ll be alright.”

 

“Drink.. please… God Spike… you have to. I’ve got no blood in the house until I can come home with some at lunchtime – and you need to heal.” The human pushed the limb forward again. This time his partner nodded, laved the wrist first, then pressed the razor sharp canines against the flesh so gently that when they slid in Xander hardly felt anything beyond the sensuous licking and sucking that drew the precious liquid. All too soon for Xander, the wrist was returned and a near inaudible “Thank you, Xan” came from his now blue eyed lover.

 

Xander reached over, took the injured arm carefully, stroking the skin that had remained in tact and leaned over to kiss the still sleep tousled curls, then rested his cheek against their softness continuing to pet and comfort his lover.

 

“I’m *so* sorry Spike… I’m *so* sorry. If I’d woken earlier I could have checked… I mean… Geez! What if…”

 

“Stop it luv…stop it” He turned to lock blue eyes on the guilt filled brown one, “Not your fault… master vampire remember – century and a half under me belt, you reckon I shouldn’t ‘ave realized? This is nothing pet, had far worse runnin’ in and outa your mobs’ homes under that bloody blanket after the bloody chip.” Instead of the relief he had predicted the reaction was one of horror. *Oh Bollocks, *not* the right thing to say*

 

“Oh G… Spike… I never… and I was all ‘Fangless’ and you were… Oh I am so, so sorry!... How can you even…” Spike cut him off with a swift kiss.

 

“Not the point luv, just sayin’… and Xan?... Please look at me pet….?”  Spike waited until he had the full attention of his distressed companion, “”s the best breakfast I’ve had for ages.” Accompanied by an infectious grin, Xander could do little but relax and hug his partner to him. Spike felt the smile against his collar bone…. *Another ‘crisis’ over*

 

After some coaxing, much reassuring and the repeated checking of window drapes, Xander departed for work. Spike slept until just after three then rose to begin his day. True to his word Xander had dropped off a few days’ supply of animal blood supplemented by four bags of ‘ABpos’ but had not woken his sleeping companion. He had stood watching his friend sleep motionless for a time. Pondering the strangeness of seeing someone without breath, sleeping. He also wondered at the innocent and stunningly beautiful face, as always appearing younger in its repose.

 

Spike had woken slowly, ‘supped’ fitfully then written uninterrupted for almost three hours until a key in the door signaled the arrival of his ‘some’t better to do!’

 

Pleasuring his friend was almost effortless. Xander was progressively stripped from the door as he entered from work, until he was pressed into the bed without protest. Spike had never had a more responsive or willing human partner, and certainly none that could be described as lovers. He had waited until his human fell into a sated sleep, snuggled for a while then returned to his writing. He slipped back into the bed as he felt the heartbeat speed up, capturing his lover in a cool embrace as though he had been present all night. And so a pattern was set…

 

They had stayed in the first night; on the second ‘did’ a Korean restaurant and movie then returned; on the third they ordered out and watched DVDs ‘in’; on the fourth Xander was caught in a meeting with clients until late, but came home to a very nude Spike cooking classic Italian cuisine clad – for his own protection - in a small hand towel that he had somehow fastened around his hips with the aid of a long piece of ‘multipurpose kitchen tie’ and a good deal of ingenuity.

 

On the fourth night Xander stopped to consider.

 

In just on two weeks, their lives had gone from tumultuous scenes of long lost lovers in a frantic holiday romance, to domesticated nudism, queries about pasta preferences, and sleepy video evenings (not that certain post movie activities weren’t ‘of the definite good’… )

 

Xander had three problems on his mind – the first originating from the apparent ease and swiftness with which their ‘couple-dom’ had evolved. The second, the fact that he had let two of his closest workmates know of his ‘switch hitting’ a while back but was ‘celibate’ at the time, and now he really did need to ‘come out’ if only to acknowledge Spike. And the third and most difficult problem, a sickening sense of impending crisis as ‘Xander and friend’ were invited to his CEO’s birthday on Sunday – an evening barbeque no less – compulsory attendance.

 

 

Collective Experience: part two

 

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