Shacking Up, 23
By
EntreNous

****************

Chapter Twenty-Three: “Friction”

Clem whistled as he entered the crypt that morning. Shrugging off his jacket, he dropped it at the door and paused in the entryway, carefully balancing two hot beverages.

“Spike? Hey, you in here? I got you a latte!”

A figure still draped in a blanket sat bolt upright on the couch and snarled.

“Oh come on,” Clem said with a grin. “You look like you could use it.”

A hand shot out from underneath the blanket to accept the coffee, and Clem sat down on the lounge chair to drink his venti orange mocha. After a few minutes the blanket was shucked, and Spike crumpled the container, cursing as the last of the hot liquid hit his t-shirt.

Clem’s mouth twisted sympathetically. “That looked like it burned. . . You want some Advil or Neosporin or something?”

Spike just scowled, flicking off droplets that had landed on the armrest.

“Okay then,” Clem said. “You want I should take off or . . .” he trailed off when Spike dropped his face into his hands. “Or, you know, I could stay. You okay, dude?”

“No,” Spike said.

Clem scratched his chest and considered. “ ‘No’ I shouldn’t go? Or ‘no’ you’re not okay? Or . . .”

“No and no,” Spike said wearily.

“Rough night, huh?”

Spike merely looked at Clem. Then he blinked, and looked a little closer.

“It was at that,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “But from the looks of things, not for both of us.” He eyed Clem appraisingly and smiled slightly. “That the same outfit from yesterday?”

“Yeah, uh, see the thing about that is,” Clem stammered a bit. Then he gave up and smiled widely. “I didn’t want to bug you about what was going on because you were wrapped up in your own stuff. But a couple of weeks ago -- man, it’s only been that long? -- my cousin introduced me to Cindy . . .”

“Cindy is it?” Spike asked, settling back onto the couch with his fingers laced behind his head. “Sounds like you’ve got quite a story there.”

“Well, Cindy is a pretty special girl,” Clem said seriously.

“Is she, erm . . .” Spike’s fingertips fluttered a bit at his face and neck.

“Oh, yeah,” Clem nodded. “Same nation of demon as me. Different clan, though.”

“Imagine your mum’ll be thrilled.”

A slight look of panic crossed Clem’s face. “Cindy’s talking about taking me to meet her brother. Freaks me out a little.”

“You’ll do all right,” Spike said shortly.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” Clem agreed. He regarded Spike for a moment then took a deep breath. “This crappy night of yours . . . got anything to do with Xander?”

Spike reached over to take a pack of cigarettes off the end table and tapped them down against his fist to pack them. He drew one out and lit it with a quick flick of his lighter. Clem watched him quietly.

Spike took a long drag. “Think I missed my shot.”

Clem grimaced and nodded at the appropriate points as Spike filled him in on the events of the previous night. His eyes widened when Spike described following Xander and Davy to the bar. When Spike explained the volley of hostile comments between himself and Davy, he nearly interrupted, but he kept silent when he saw the frustrated look on Spike’s face.

“But you don’t actually know that anything happened,” he started cautiously as soon as the story was done.

Spike snorted. “If you’d seen him, drunk as all get out, sending off waves of pheromones, leaning over the table all intimate-like . . .”

“Nah,” Clem shook his head. “That doesn’t have to mean anything. As far as I can tell, the only way you’ll find out is if you ask him. I think you should go talk to him as soon as the sun goes down.”

Spike swung his feet to the floor and stood. “Yeah, ‘cause that did such a lot of good the last few times.”

Clem leaned back in his chair and considered this. “Maybe it’d be good if you went to talk but you didn’t say so much.”

Spike threw his hands up into the air. “How the hell am I supposed to resolve things if I’m to speak as little as possible?”

“Just work it out, okay?” Clem said in an exasperated tone. “But I think you should see him.”

Spike sank back down onto the couch and opened his mouth to protest some more.

“Uh . . . hey,” Xander said from the entrance with a small wave of his hand.

“I was just going,” Clem said quickly, scrambling to his feet.

“You’re often going when I get here,” Xander said with a frown. “I don’t mean to chase you away.”

“No, no . . . I’ve got a thing later that I have to get to anyway.”

“A thing?” Spike asked skeptically.

“A picnic,” Clem said. He blushed, looking somewhat shocked, thrilled, and worried all at the same time. “I’m bringing an apple pie. Is an apple pie good for a picnic?”

“Pie of any kind ranks high on the picnic must-have list,” Xander assured him.

“Great! Well, then . . . “ Clem smiled at Xander, looked pointedly at Spike, and took off.

“Hey,” Xander said again.

Spike looked him over, long and slow, and took an obvious sniff in his direction.

“About that,” Xander began.

“Didn’t get into much then, eh?” Spike asked bitterly. “You do smell like him, you know. Not a lot, though, I’ll give you that -- must have decided to take things slow. This being your first time with a bloke and all. Should have known that he’d be the romantic type. I imagine you came here to give me the details. So have a seat. Tell me all about it, Xander. Did he--”

“Just stop, okay?” Xander asked. They stared at one another for a moment or two, then Xander slumped against the wall of the crypt.

“Look,” he said. He stopped and tried again. “See, the thing of it is . . . Stop that!” he said to Spike.

“Stop what?” Spike asked with a snort.

“Stop looking at me like I just turned us all in to the man.”

“Wait . . . what man?” Spike asked in genuine confusion.

“You know,” Xander said miserably. “The man that you betray people to when you’re a big jerk. Like I sold everyone we know, but especially you, down the river. To the big house.”

“Ah,” Spike said. He grabbed onto the one part of Xander’s explanation that made sense to him. “You want to talk about betrayal then?” He looked at Xander accusingly, and Xander shook his head.

“Shut up for a minute so that I can explain things.”

Spike’s jaw tightened, but he gestured towards the couch, and Xander left his spot on the wall and eased onto the opposite end cautiously.

He sat looking for his hands at a moment. Spike quickly drew through another cigarette, and stabbed the filter against the ashtray.

Xander cleared his throat. “I asked Davy to move out. He left this morning. He’ll be back to get his things later this week.” He turned his head towards Spike. “Buffy’s going to hang out in the apartment while he does it so that I don’t have to see him.”

Spike tilted his head slightly, waiting.

“Okay?” Xander asked desperately.

“What?” Spike shifted deliberately and turned towards Xander. “Is what okay?”

“I . . . alright, fine. You want to know more? We kissed a little. It’s not an excuse, but I was drunk and I didn’t stop it as soon as I should have. Which should have been right away. It wasn’t . . . he . . . you were right about some of the things you said.”

“Like?” Spike asked impassively.

“Oh, come on,” Xander shot out. “You know what.”

“Humor me.”

Xander moved so that he faced Spike. “Alright. You were right about Davy wanting to try something with me. You were right about the kind of person that he is.”

“Is that what you came to tell me?” Spike asked.

“No. There’s more,” Xander said. He raked his fingers through his hair and dropped his hand to his lap. “I want to say the other stuff fast, because it’s hard, and that way if you don’t like it, it’ll be over more quickly. But that means I have to know everything I’m going to say already, and I just don’t.”

Spike waited, but no more information seemed forthcoming. “Well? You need to tell me what’s going on in your head. I’m not some bloody mind reader. What the hell do you want me to do?” Spike’s voice rose in frustration.

“Just . . . I want you to hold still,” Xander whispered, and leaned in close to Spike, brushing their lips together slowly.

A half second passed before Spike pulled Xander in tightly and licked against the corners of his mouth. Xander’s lips parted with a small murmur, and Spike darted his tongue inside.

Xander slid onto Spike’s lap, straddling him. “I want you,” he began in a hoarse voice.

“Oh fuck, I want you so much,” Spike said quickly. He scraped his teeth at the side of Xander’s neck and moved to run his tongue along the outside shell of Xander’s ear.

“No, I mean . . . I mean, yes, I mean, I want you that way too, I . . . “ Xander said. He pulled back and covered his mouth to hide the snicker.

Spike might have reacted badly to the seemingly random merriment, but the feel of Xander still on his lap, the laughter making his body tremble against him, the knowledge that they were finally getting somewhere turned all thoughts towards increasing this pleasure. So he grinned lazily, and brushed his palm against the hardness covered by Xander’s jeans.

“Oh god,” Xander gasped and laughed at once. “Seriously, though I want you . . .”

“Yeah . . .” Spike said in a low voice, pushing his hips up and making Xander gasp again. “Can feel that.” His hands moved around to stroke Xander’s ass, squeezing and pressing hard.

“Oh man,” Xander whispered. He opened dazed eyes to peer at Spike. “I can almost see the last vestiges of my straight-nitude running to catch the last bus out of town.”

Spike laughed then stood suddenly, eliciting a brief squeak from Xander. All at once he rearranged them on the couch, tugging at Xander’s legs to keep them wrapped around him.

“No one’ll come in here?” Xander asked.

“Who the fuck cares?” Spike said hoarsely. He grinned again when he felt Xander thrust up against him with a soft moan. “Feel that, love? You make me so hard.” He rolled his hips then leaned down, sucking at Xander’s top then bottom lip before he began thrusting his tongue in and out between them.

Xander’s hands clenched and kneaded at Spike’s hips, softly at first, then rough enough to leave bruises. “Spike,” Xander gasped when he drew back for a moment to catch his breath.

“Alright love?”

“I . . .” Xander blinked, shivered, and twisted his body to rub against Spike’s harder.

Spike wordlessly and slowly began tugging Xander’s t-shirt out of his jeans. He bent slightly, and following the path of the fabric, kissed along the exposed skin as he drew the shirt off, nuzzling the abdomen that quivered beneath his touch, brushing his lips against Xander’s chest, until he was biting those sweet swollen lips and pulling the t-shirt over his head.

Xander scrambled to pull off Spike’s black t-shirt, and after a clumsy tussle, Spike emerged bare-chested, his hair standing on end and his eyes locked on Xander. Xander’s mouth formed a silent “oh!” as he tentatively stroked up and down Spike’s sides, abdomen, and back.

“No,” Xander panted when Spike touched his button fly.

“S’okay, won’t rush you,” Spike murmured, letting his hand fall away.

“No, not that . . . Just can’t wait . . . I . . . fuck!” Xander called out desperately as he jerked up against Spike, his eyes rolling back as he felt himself shoot against the hard cock still rubbing against his own.

“Gorgeous,” Spike hissed. “Gorgeous, you are.”

“Crazy sex-talking vamp . . .” Xander murmured after a moment. He shivered and plucked at Spike’s belt.

Spike caught Xander’s hand and bit at the palm. “Next time, love. We’ll get our clothes off proper, and --”

“But . . . please . . . “

“Don’t worry, yeah?”

“But . . . I want you to . . . on me,” Xander said, his face flaming.

“To what?” Spike said dumbly. He stilled.

“To come on me,” Xander said, releasing a pent up breath. Then he ducked his head, smiling a little. “Please,” he added again.

Spike’s face shifted from surprise to hunger, and he released his belt and jeans with a groan. He pulled out his cock and ran his hand down, stopping to press against the spot where the base met his groin, making it stand and fill out harder.

“Fuck,” Xander blurted, and reached out to twine his fingers around Spike’s.

Eyes locked, they moved their hands together, pulling and sliding over the pulsing hardness. Spike shimmied up to straddle Xander’s groin, and he sucked in unnecessary air when he felt Xander’s cock twitch and harden again.

Another pull, another stroke, and Xander moved his hands back to Spike’s hips, choking back sounds as he thrust up against him once more. Spike clutched Xander’s chest with one hand to steady himself, the other hand almost a blur moving over his straining erection.

Xander licked his lips and squirmed, and turned large hazy eyes up to Spike. With a low growl, Spike vamped out and he gave a single shout as he came hard, striping Xander’s chest with his cum. He continued to rock into Xander’s hard-on while he moved both hands to rub his semen into the spots where it had landed.

Xander’s eyes widened even more as he came again with a half-sob.

***

Xander mumbled against the crook of Spike’s neck and shoulder, and Spike kissed the top of his head. He’d fallen asleep after planting groggy kisses on Spike’s lips and face, and Spike had laid awake curling his fingers though Xander’s hair, stroking Xander’s pretty neck, and enjoying the daze fogging his thoughts.

“Waking up, are you?” Spike asked softly.

“Kind of,” Xander yawned. Then he forced his eyes open and sat up. “I still have to ask you the thing I came here about.”

“Ask away,” Spike replied, sitting up also.

“Um. Okay. Here’s my question. And you can say no. Because it’s not like things between us have been completely clear, and maybe it’s not the hottest idea I’ve had. But we’ve done it before, except when things were different, and --”

“Xander.”

“Okay. So . . . any chance you want to move back in with me?”

Spike’s mouth twitched slightly. “You’re asking me to move in with you.”

“Right,” Xander replied nervously.

Spike smiled slowly. “Oh, I’d be a fool not to move in with you after that nice little dance you were doing under me on the couch,” he said, catching Xander’s chin in his hand and kissing him hard.

“Spike, I’m serious,” Xander said sheepishly when he could breathe again.

“So m’I.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Xander got to his feet and stuffed his hands into his pockets, grinning. Then he grimaced, shifting in his pants. “Wish I had something to change into. These aren’t really good for outside wearing right now.”

Spike rubbed at the back of his neck with a scowl, and then cleared his throat. “Right. Well, the thing about that is, got a pair of your jeans here.”

Xander balked. “You . . . “

Spike sighed. “When I moved out. Took ‘em with me. And don’t say another word.”

“You’re pretty fucking cute,” Xander announced with a wide smile. “It’d be sort of stalkery if it wasn’t so nice.”

“Yeah, well,” Spike said uncomfortably. He stalked off to get the jeans to the accompaniment of Xander’s laughter.

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