Author: Kay Tee
Feedback: 'Course, send to maybeshedoes@yahoo.com
Rating: Erm, NC-17 I guess, just to be safe
Spoilers: Buffy and Spike were having sex. But they aren't anymore. That's about it.
Improv: pet, cool, sweat, spray
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Summary: Spike dumps Xander. Xander's sorry.
Distribution: Take it, but tell me where so I can visit.
Disclaimer: In my dreams I'm Joss, but during the day I have to face the cold hard truth-- I'm a hack who steals characters. But I'm not giving them back! Or I am, just don't sue me, all I have are speeding tickets and student loans.
Author's Note: I can't seem to write anything between these two that isn't fluffy. I'll try harder next time, I promise.
After Spike left, everything reminded Xander of the vampire.
But that's what happens when your lover's skin is room temperature.
When Cordelia left, when Anya left, there were still things around that would remind him of them. Things that had nothing to do with his old lovers-- certain shoes he knew Cordelia would have liked, hated. A hilltop he'd never thought to take Anya to, something she should have experienced as a new human, but he'd forgotten to show her. And it was hard, because he felt responsible for showing her everything, teaching her everything. When she left, he kept thinking about how much he'd forgotten, how much he'd failed her. But he'd taught her heartbreak, and that was certainly a uniquely human experience.
Or so he'd have thought-- if he'd thought about it-- before he met Spike.
Really met him. Sat down and talked to him like he was more than nothing, and more than something to be afraid of or distrustful of or slightly wary of. Because Xander was none of those things towards Spike-- didn't need to be anymore, and when Xander realized that, he'd gone to apologize.
He'd felt stupid, and then Spike had snorted at him, dismissing the whole apology with a wave of his hand, and Xander had felt even stupider. But as he'd opened the crypt door to leave, Spike had offered him a drink, invitation to stay unspoken, and Xander had stayed.
Had not left the crypt for three days as he talked and talked and talked.
Spike stayed silent, just listening. Xander had wished that the vampire would talk too, and the wishing made Xander talk more, and he had stayed for three-- *three*-- days. He told Spike about vampires-- the ones that were real, not the blue-eyed beauties from the movies-- and how Xander had first learned of their existence. How Xander's best friend had been turned into one, and how Xander had been told that there was nothing worth saving anymore, that Jesse needed to be destroyed. Xander talked about Angel-- who didn't need to be destroyed, until he did, though he wasn't.
And after Xander got his tongue untied from trying to say that, he talked about Spike-- knowing Spike, trusting Spike, working side by side with Spike... Until Buffy came back, and Spike had left the group that had adopted him. Xander talked about losing Spike, never knowing that it would happen again, though much, much more painfully.
Yes, they'd become lovers. Yes, it was wonderful and horrifying and perfect beyond what Xander could wrap his mind around. And not perfect at all. Xander felt that he was on the brink all the time. Every moment was like that moment before orgasm-- when the pleasure is so great that it becomes pain-- and Xander didn't know how to feel.
He had been lying in bed, running his fingers lightly against Spike's dry back, those hard muscles totally relaxed as they only were when the vampire was deep in sleep.
Spike's skin was cool, but would heat quickly when Xander touched it, so Xander loved to touch it. There was power there; he loaned his own warmth to Spike, giving the vampire's seeming dead body the feel of life.
Spike didn't sweat-- couldn't, unless he was sick, and he was never sick. But when they coupled, Xander driving into his lover, his sweat would cover Spike-- spread over the vampire's back, his abdomen where Xander's arm gripped him, his cock where Xander's fist pulled-- and Spike would glow in the wetness, the smell, of Xander.
But now Spike was gone, not glowing anymore, or worse, glowing for somebody else. Xander had no way of knowing.
He remembered how dead, how vampiric Spike had looked before allying himself with the scoobies. Just being around humans had made the vampire seem more alive-- and the same had been true for Angel.
Now that Spike had gone away, just disappeared into the nothingness of the outside world, whatever was out there (Xander had only had a peek, once, for a few months in 1999), now that he was gone, the vampire would lose his seeming aliveness, would be dead again. Or so Xander hoped, couldn't stand the thought that Spike might take another human lover, might have another human friend.
Spike had been gone for three months. Three months, as long as he had been Xander's friend before they became lovers, as long as he had been Xander's lover before he decided to leave. The synchronicity had to mean something, and now everything reminded Xander of Spike.
Xander would just casually touch a book, a table-top, a hammer. It didn't matter. It was always some item that was room temperature, room temperature like his vampire. *His* vampire. He would touch something that was dry and smooth and room temperature like Spike, and he would miss his lover. If he held the thing, or left his hand on it, the book or table-top or hammer would warm under his touch, and he would think of Spike again.
Xander wondered if Buffy had felt the same way after Angel left, wanted to ask her, but couldn't. No, he couldn't ask her because she didn't know that he and Spike had been lovers.
Which was why Spike had gone in the first place.
They had been lounging at Buffy's house-- the whole scooby gang, Spike included, when Dawn had pranced in. She immediately walked up to the group and sprayed some truly foul smelling perfume at them, asking what they thought of it. Everyone but Spike had lied and complimented her choice. Dawn had preened proudly, saying that it wasn't her choice at all. She and her brand-new-first-ever-isn't-he-cute boyfriend had gone out shopping together. He had picked a perfume he liked for her and she had picked a cologne for him.
Spike had called her a sappy little teenager, but he'd been smiling when he said it. Willow had breathed that the whole affair sounded terribly romantic. Buffy had hesitantly complimented Dawn's boyfriend's taste, noting with some trepidation that the two seemed to be getting very close.
Then Dawn had turned to Xander and asked what he thought. He thought she was sappy and romantic and scary and he told her so.
Dawn had grinned and swished out of the room, riding that first romance high.
That was when Willow, who always saw too much, started talking. She babbled on about how cheerful Dawn was, how romance did that to a person. The ex-witch had continued at length, using Giles and Buffy and herself as examples of how people acted all dizzy when they were in love. Then she got quiet and started looking at Xander funny.
Just as he started to squirm, Willow accused, "Xander Harris, you're in love! You've been seeing somebody, and you never even told me!"
Spike's eyes had gone wide at that, because Xander was certainly not in love, or at least, he had never said anything to Spike about it.
And Xander had denied everything, even after Buffy jumped in to helpfully point out how cheerful he was-- apparently he was exuding abnormal amounts of XanderCheer, which he'd never guessed could be possible. The girls pointed out that he had begun to dress better, smell better-- was he using a new cologne?-- and he'd started doing a little jiggy dance every night when their meetings were over, as if he had somewhere much better to be than in the company of his friends.
They pressed and pressed, wanting so badly to know who had made their friend so happy, wanting to shake her hand, pat her back, whatever. The whole time, Xander was tensely aware of Spike's gaze on him. The vampire had mentioned just a few nights earlier that he would like Xander to come out to his friends already. Spike was tired of not being able to touch his lover in public, or pretending that he wasn't also ecstatically happy. Xander had put Spike off, promising to tell the girls when the time was right. Apparently, their questions had convinced Spike that the time had come, as he leaned in to join the conversation, prompting, "Yes, Pet, tell us who has made you so very happy." The words were spoken slowly, deliberately, Spike using the affectionate nickname on purpose, just trying to goad Xander into telling, and also, asking Xander to tell.
But Xander was a coward, and had refused to say anything and three (three) days later, Spike was gone.
Xander remembered that in fairy tales, everything happened in threes. He also remembered that some fairy tales were real.
And hey, fairy tales always ended with 'and they lived happily ever after,' so Xander really really hoped that all these threes meant that his life was a fairy tale.
After a while, Xander began to suspect that if he was stuck in some storybook romance, he was the wicked witch, or the evil step-mother of this tale.
Ahh, but their punishments were always much worse than the eternal loneliness he was feeling without Spike.
Xander hoped that he still had time to change things... be a 'good guy.'
So he blurted it out in the middle of patrol; Buffy on his left, Willow on his right, vampire dust just settling from a brief skirmish. Xander said, "I'm in love with Spike."
There was silence for a moment, and then, instead of the outburst he was expecting, there was only Buffy's quiet, slightly confused reply: "I thought you were straight."
"Bi."
Then Willow: "I thought Spike left town, like, months ago."
"He did."
But Buffy apparently knew something he didn't, because she interjected, "No he didn't."
Xander didn't have an answer to that. He just stared at Buffy, afraid to breathe, afraid she was wrong, and then realizing. "Oh. You're sleeping with him again." Not a question. There was only one reason Buffy had ever hung out with just Spike, and now she was doing it again. Everything he was afraid of, but didn't have to *know*. Now he knew, and the knowledge was like led in his system, drawing him down.
He plopped to the ground, staring off into the darkness of the cemetery, not daring to look at Buffy. Spike had loved her. Probably still did. Of course still did.
Buffy wrinkled her nose. "I am so over the undead thing. Trust me." She put a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. "I don't even know where he's staying, but I've seen him following us on a few patrols... Now that I think of it, he's never there when I'm alone, only when... you're with me..."
"Wait." Willow had that familiar too-knowing spark in her eyes, still dangerous. "You're not just in love with him like 'I have a big stinky crush, eww.' You're in love like 'I have a big stinky boyfriend, eww!'"
"Eww?" Xander couldn't help the grin. "And stinky? Not so much, Spike doesn't really do stinky."
Buffy grinned, offering a hand and pulling a slightly trembly Xander to his feet. "Not stinky? Spike? The chain-smoking, blood-drinking, crypt-sleeping-in, hair-bleaching vamp that we all know and sorta tolerate? You got it bad, Xand, you'd have to be in love to call that not stinky."
Xander just smiled wider. "Oh, that's the Spike smell, an aroma impossible to achieve by mere mortals." He bounced on his toes. "And he follows us? On patrols? Like, he's in town, just, not with me?" Xander frowned a little at that but the bouncing didn't stop or slow.
Willow hugged him from behind. "Xander's in love," she sighed happily.
Buffy wrapped her arms around her two best friends, sighing too.
"Umm, guys?" Xander hated to put a stop to the group hug, but he just had to know. "How come you're being so cool about this? I thought you would freak."
"Oh, I'll freak later, when the visual catches up with me..." Buffy trailed off. "And there it is," she gulped.
Willow nodded vigorously against Xander's back. "Definite visuals..." She did not sound at all displeased, which had Xander yelping and jumping away.
"Hey! Stop that! No... visualizing." Willow just grinned unrepentantly. "Really, Wills, there's nothing to visualize. We broke up."
That got their attention.
"Wait, broke up?" Buffy.
"What happened? If Spike hurt you..." Willow.
"I'll get the shovel." Buffy.
"Hey, hey! No. It wasn't anything shovel-worthy. At all. We had a fight. And then I... it was my fault," Xander tried to explain.
"Your fault?" Buffy couldn't believe it. "After all you put up with, I mean, the blood-breath alone..."
"Buff, think you're projecting just a little bit there. And... I like the blood-breath. It's Spike. It's all good..."
"Yeah, and it's not like he's bloody perfect," Spike interrupted from where he was leaning casually against a tree, having emerged from the shadows after taking in the whole conversation.
Sure, he'd left town-- for about a minute. But he'd had to go back when he thought about all the Hellmouth nasties that could get Xander while Spike wasn't there to protect him. And sure, the vampire had been furious with his lover, but that didn't mean he wanted Xander dead... at least not by somebody else's hands.
Buffy smiled at Spike, Willow raised both her eyebrows at him (since she hadn't yet learned how to do that cool one-eyebrow thing), and Xander just gaped.
Spike continued, "He's all human and sticky. You want stench, get a whiff of him right off the construction site." Spike pushed off the tree and began circling Xander, listing his faults. "Boy always needs a haircut; never buys new skivvies, you should *see* the ratty things he wears under those hideous clothes; never gets his bloody hair cut..." Spike stood in front of Xander now, pushing a bit of the black fringe out of the young man's face almost affectionately.
"You already said that one," Xander barely whispered. Spike was touching him again, and Xander had to hold his breath, which is hard to do when you're trying to talk at the same time.
"Mmm," Spike answered, "and you better not cut it-- s'bloody adorable like this."
Buffy and Willow were making 'aww' faces behind Xander, and Spike scowled at them over the young man's shoulder. "I did not just say that," he told them harshly, as if his command could strike his words from their memories.
Both girls were interrupted as they moved to answer.
"What are you still doing here? I thought you left." Xander was still whispering, barely breathing, and Spike frowned at him.
"Breathe, Xander," the vampire commanded. Xander did as he was told, and Spike continued, "Had a bit of a vacation. Wasn't gonna leave for good." He leaned close, brushing dry lips over Xander's on his way to his ex-lover's ear, where he whispered, "Couldn't leave for good."
Xander wet his lips and caught Spike as he pulled away.
Willow just sighed delightedly as the two began to kiss with passion, and Buffy was forced to drag the red-head away before she got out a video camera.
Alone in the graveyard, Xander finally said, "I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, well, you're a right coward around them," Spike grinned, letting his hands slide down Xander's back to cup his buttocks and pull their groins together. "But I know, in the dark, who you really are..." His devious smile made Xander shiver against him, and the dark-haired man pulled away, taking Spike's hand and marching to where his car was parked on the outskirts of the cemetery.
He was forgiven. Good. Now it was time to punish Spike for letting him worry these last three months.
Xander pushed his vampire into the passenger seat of the car, and when Spike got a good look at the mischief plainly written on Xander's face, he purred, "Feeling wicked, are we, pet?"
And Xander smiled as he circled around to the driver's seat. Maybe their lives were part of some big fairy tale. At least Xander knew his place in the story.