"Don't be like that," Xander says in an exasperated tone. He's watching Spike pace up and down the length of the alley, and he runs his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Like. What?" Spike says through gritted teeth. He turns and glares at Xander.

"Like...like that meant anything. He was just--"

"I know what he was just doing, Xander. But you didn't have to stand there and let him--"

"Let him! For fuck's sake, Spike! Some drunk guy doesn't get it when I'm pointing at you and saying 'I'm with the punk guy who'd sooner pull your bottom lip over your head than shake your hand' -- and he gets slobbery and tries to kiss me, almost falling down on me in the process -- that's not letting anyone do anything. That's blocking a really nasty catwalk accident and neatly sidestepping a pervy jerk that won't back off when I tell him three times that I have a boyfriend."

Spike snorts and looks sharply at Xander. "You told him, yeah?"

"Three times, Spike. Okay?"

He regards Xander for a long moment, finally giving him a brief nod. “Right. Let’s go back in, then.”

“That’s it?” Xander’s tone is flat. He shrugs and turns towards the door.

“No, that’s not blood well it,” Spike shouts. He grabs Xander and shoves him against the brick wall desperately.

From the club a faint echo of music drifts into the alley.

Hey boy, take a look at me
Let me dirty up your mind . . .

Xander turns those big black eyes on him, and Spike’s damned if he’s going to do anything else, ever, without making clear how things are between them. He screws his eyes shut so that he won’t see, ducks his head so he won’t give anything away, and pushes Xander harder into the wall.

“You fucking tell him, whoever it is next time, that you don’t want it from him.” He eases up his hold just for a moment, then pins Xander more deliberately, slowly.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s worked so well in the past,” Xander says softly. His body’s gone soft, malleable in Spike’s arms, even as his cock begins to fill.

Spike opens his eyes. This he wants to see.

“Faith listened really well to that while she was wrestling me onto the bed and choking me.” His voice is thick, syrupy, and it fills Spike’s ears and makes his skin prick. Xander rubs his head against Spike’s cheek like a cat, all that soft hair brushing there making Spike tighten his hold on Xander’s arms.

“And Anya, she gave me all kinds of space while she strong-armed me into that relationship. And you, right?” Xander’s voice drops to a whisper as he twists against Spike, not trying to get away, but trying to increase the pressure. “Pretty much all got your way . . . whatever I thought about it at first.” Xander lowers his eyelashes, somehow demure and teasing all at once.

Spike growls, feeling his face hum and itch, watching Xander’s eyes and his mouth and thinking how fucking pretty he is.

A flash of pink against the bottom of his teeth, and Xander tilts his head to the side in clear offering.

“Christ,” Spike breathes, and drops his head onto Xander’s shoulder. He can’t focus, not with Xander biting his bottom lip and pressing his hard-on into Spike with a soft sigh.

You choke behind a smile
A fake behind the fear
The queerest of the queer

He licks hard against Xander’s throat, scraping his tongue wetly along the rush and the thrust of the blood there. They both moan when his fangs drop, and Spike trails them over the skin there, ignoring the pleading noises Xander’s making.

“Fucking tell me you want it.”

“You know I . . oh god . . . I do. Want.”

And that’s enough. Spike lines his mouth neatly against the right spot on Xander’s throat, worrying the skin like he’s going to take his time sinking in. And then he slams in, sucking mouthfuls of blood as Xander gasps and shakes.

Spike starts to pull out, and Xander grips his shoulders, choking, “Keep going.”

You’re hungry ‘cause you starve
While holding back the tears
Choking on your smile

Spike makes a sound of protest even as he hesitates.

“More,” Xander hisses.

“Can’t,” Spike manages. “Not if you don’t want --” He draws back, and runs his tongue over the point of penetration, groaning a little as the blood stops flowing.

“I want . . .do it,” Xander pants, and Spike shakes his head.

“Not yet. Not here, like this.”

Xander juts his hips forward, and Spike holds him there tight as they each begin to grind against one another.

“Soon . . .” Xander whispers, his eyes fluttering open and shut.

“Soon, love.”

“Promise.”

“I . . . fuck! . . . I promise.”

“Harder,” Xander murmurs, and Spike complies, trapping Xander, rubbing his cock so roughly against Xander’s answering hardness that he’s slamming Xander further against the brick behind his back with every movement.

Small sounds escape Xander’s lips, and Spike draws Xander’s head forward, easing the duster back off one shoulder with one hand while he captures Xander’s wrists in the other, stretching them above his head against the wall. “Come on, now,” he soothes even as he tightens his grip and twists his hips against Xander’s.

And when Xander snuffles at Spike’s neck, Spike knows there’s never been a sweeter touch than his boy clumsily forcing the skin to part beneath his teeth.

Xander cries out softly, muffled against Spike’s neck as he licks away the droplets he’s managed to raise there.

I know what’s good for you
‘You can touch me if you want’
But you can’t stop

A beat, and Spike grabs Xander, pulling him away from the wall. They tumble around before they find a surface that works, but it’s hardly any time before Spike has Xander bent over a stack of crates, hoarsely calling out for more against Spike’s hand over his mouth as Spike swivels and turns and slams himself harder and harder into him.

I know what’s good for you
I know you’re dying to
I know what’s good for you
I bet you’re dying to

You can touch me if you want
You can touch me if you want
You can touch me
You can touch me
But you can’t stop.

*~*~*~*~The End~*~*~*~*