| 12 Days
Spike barely acknowledged the ring of Xander’s alarm clock anymore. Why anyone would get up at 5 a.m. for a *job* was beyond him. He burrowed further under his blanket. Fuck! It was cold. December in Sunnydale could be as miserably cold as June could be gloriously warm. The vampire rolled over, drifting gently back to sleep. Before he was completely out, he heard a banshee scream and his bed bounced under the weight of a large construction worker. “Guess what today is?” Xander asked excitedly. “Xander. This is not your bed. This is my bed. And it’s five a.m. Go. Away.” “It’s almost Christmas.” “Uh-huh,” Spike said, pulling the covers over his head. “Guess *how* almost?” Xander asked, bouncing on the mattress. “Huh?” “There are twelve days until Christmas!” Xander said finally. Spike covered his eyes, snoring softly. “And I got you a present.” Spike’s eyes snapped open and he uncovered his head. “A present?” Xander thrust his hands forward, holding out a rectangular box questionably wrapped in birthday wrapping paper. Awake now, Spike ripped into the package. “Twinkies?” “Yep!” “You got me Twinkies?” “Yep. Twelve of them. Well, I had to put two more in to make twelve. Get it? Twelve days…Twelve Twinkies?” Spike nodded sleepily. “Thank you,” he mumbled and held the box out to Xander who took one and jumped off the bed. Spike watched through sleep-lowered lids as Xander entered the bathroom and then he rolled over again, asleep. 11 Days Bloody hell. If the wanker keeps this up, I’ll have to start sleepin’ in underwear again, Spike thought. Xander bounced giddily on the bed, another box in his arms. “What?” he snapped. “Eleven days,” Xander explained, thrusting out the package. Spike sat up and ripped through the paper. “Ding-Dongs.” “Yep!” “Xander. I’m gettin' a ‘Hostess’ theme here. Would I be wrong?” Xander smiled, breaking open a chocolaty treat. “What’s with you, Xander? I mean, not that I don’t appreciate your…enthusiasm. But I don’t get it. You don’t like me very much. Why do I garner the attention?” Xander looked thoughtful for a moment. “The others will get presents, too. It’s just…” Xander was quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “When I was little, my family always hosted Thanksgiving. And it was always horrible. My mom would get drunk and yell, and then my dad would get drunk and yell and…I don’t know. By Christmas the guilt would settle in and there would be mountains of presents and my folks would be on their best behavior for one day, the only day, of the year. So…I guess I just really like Christmas. And I was thinking that you probably don’t have that many Christmas memories so I figured… I mean, in the spirit of the season…and because this is your first Christmas in a century or so with a soul…and since this will probably be the *last* Christmas on earth if the First has anything to do with it, we should try to…make it special,” Xander finished his babble with a childlike grin. Spike eyed him, expressionless. “God, Spike!” Xander suddenly exploded, “Can’t you just play along? Can you do that? Can you make that *my* present?” The vampire heaved an unnecessary sigh and then eyed the melting Ding-Dong in Xander’s hand. “You gonna finish that?” A hopeful glimmer lit Xander’s eyes. “Yes,” he grinned, popping it into his mouth. “Well then at least pass me one. They are *mine* after all.” 10 Days “Rise and shine. Ten days to go!” Spike groaned, but inwardly he smiled at Xander’s exuberance. The vampire sat up. The newly-souled part of him was pleased he’d remembered underwear today. He smiled and held out his hands expectantly. Xander reached behind him and pulled out…a ten-dollar bill. “I couldn’t find ten of anything else at the 7-11 last night,” he explained sheepishly. “Cash’ll do just fine, mate,” Spike said, tucking the bill into the pocket of the jeans draped over the bedside table. “Off to work now?” “Yeah.” Spike met Xander’s excitable smile. “Ten days, huh?” “Yep.” “And no chance you’re gonna turn over all of this goodwill pep to Buffy or someone else?” “Nope.” “Well Merry Bloody Christmas.” 9 Days Spike heard the ring of the alarm and pulled his legs to his chest, not willing to let them get crushed under the leaping pile of Xanderflesh that he knew would soon join him. Sure enough, within a few minutes he heard a whoop and Xander landed on the bed. “Nine days!” Spike stuck his hand out. “Pressie, please.” Xander grinned and held out a giftbag. The vampire plunged his hand inside and rummaged around, bringing out nine bottles of nailpolish. He stared silently at the small glass presents. “See? Most of them are black. Dawn got you the blue one, though, and I thought the green was kind of cool but you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” Spike stared at the treasure trove. “You got me nail varnish?” “Varnish, polish…whatever the cool kids are calling it these days.” “You and Dawn picked this out for me?” “Yeah, well I got the feeling the Hostess theme wasn’t working out as well for you as it was for me.” Spike stared at the shiny new piles of cosmetic, clearly moved. When he showed no sign of moving or meeting Xander’s expectant gaze, the dark-haired man swallowed uncomfortably, staring at the chipped and battered hands that held the pile of bottles. “Well, I have to get ready for work,” Xander finally said. Spike nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He watched as Xander got off the bed and walked to the shower. *** In the bathroom, Xander stared silently at the mirror. He hadn’t expected such a reaction out of Spike and he wasn't sure how to take it. It was sort of sad, really, that nine bottles of cheap nailpolish would be enough to bring a vampire near tears. 8 Days “Shouldn’t this be goin’ the other way?” Spike asked grumpily. “Nope.” “Mean, shouldn’t it start with day one and then two and so on?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “Because it’s *my* game. Now open your present.” Spike ground out the cigarette he was smoking and opened the red box. He tipped it over and black plastic lighters rained down on his bed. “I had to buy five packages just to be able to collect the black ones,” Xander explained, “but I knew you’d like the black ones best.” Spike had not the heart or the intention of telling Xander that he had a rather expensive lighter sitting not four feet away on the nightstand. Instead, he used one of the cheap disposable lighters to light a new cigarette. “Thanks mate. That’s just what I needed.” And Spike was telling the truth. Not the lighters, but the kindness. He needed a compassionate act more than he needed blood at this point. Buffy refused to fully look him in the eye and and her pinched face told him all he needed to know. Even though he had a soul now, even though he wasn’t *that* Spike anymore, he wasn’t forgiven and might never be. And he wouldn't blame her at all. He took a drag on his cigarette and appraised the enthusiastic man sitting on the bed before him. Of all of Buffy’s little Scoobies, this was the one he’d least expected to befriend him, yet here he was, showering the vampire with cheap tokens of kindness. He felt a clenching in his chest and wetness behind his eyes. Soddin’ soul. “Ta, mate.” Spike jumped from the bed and locked himself in the bathroom. “Hey! I have to get ready for work, you recently-souled bastard!” Xander pounded only half-seriously on the bathroom door, and then wandered off in search of breakfast. He was gone before he had a chance to hear the shower start—a noise intended to cover up the soft, penitent weeping coming from the bathroom. Day 7 Spike tried to fall asleep; he tried to lie still and pretend his unbeating heart wasn’t warm with anticipation. It was so ridiculous that he was looking forward to the ring of that absurdly loud alarm. Crazy, in fact, that he’d eyed Xander the night before, retreating to his bedroom with a sack of what Spike could only hope was his next gift, and found himself twitching with excitement. He tried to calm himself. It was only a matter of time before Xander tired of this game or turned his attention to a more worthy Scooby, but until then… The alarm went off, stopping his train of thought. The vampire pinched his eyes shut in his best imitation of sleep. Any moment now… He heard a thump and a crash, then a colorful string of cuss words. Xander stumbled around the apartment while Spike maintained his peaceful façade. He sensed a warm presence at his door but just as he was expecting the great Leaping Donut Boy to wake him, the presence was gone. The sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom and Spike fumed. So that was it, then? Tease the vamp. String him along for a couple of days and then lose interest, just as he’d predicted. Spike sighed morosely and rolled to his back, staring with unblinking eyes at the ceiling. Soon Spike heard the water turn off and he once again tried to mask his conscious state, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his mouth go slack. The bathroom door opened and soon the vampire sensed the presence at his doorway again. Curiosity getting the better of him, he let one lid slide open slowly. Xander stood with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. One hand was doing a poor job of it together while the other held a gift. Xander was staring past the vampire, lost in thought. Water dripped from shaggy, damp curls and dotted the smooth, lightly-freckled skin on Xander’s shoulders. The boy was a feast for any vamp’s eyes and Spike was no exception. He unwittingly let his gaze rake the appealing frame. “Oh! You’re awake!” Spike dragged startled eyes to the young man. “I didn’t want to wake you.” He smiled sheepishly as water dripped on his nose. Spike stopped himself from mentioning that he hadn’t minded waking him the previous mornings. Instead, he accepted the gift Xander thrust at him. “Here!” Xander smiled, his former forlorn countenance changing in a flash. Spike plucked slowly at the taped ends. So the boy hadn’t forgotten or changed his mind. Then why the timidity? Why hadn’t he woken him this morning with the usual exuberant leap? Today he was almost hesitant, shifting from foot to foot next to the bed. Spike rolled his eyes. “What, Xander? Wha’s got you troubled? Because honestly, you’re driving me batty dancin’ around over there. Just sit.” The vampire shifted until he’d left a large space at the foot of his bed. Xander sat down gingerly, mindful of his flimsy towel. Spike ripped savagely at the paper to reveal eight plastic combs. “I think those are the kind you use. They’re the same as the ones in the bathroom, I mean. Not that I’ve watched you get ready or anything. I mean, I wouldn’t do that,” the human sputtered. Ahhh…Things were becoming clear now. The boy started his little game and now he was worried about sending mixed signals. Bloody humans. They took their sexual status so seriously. Spike rolled his eyes. “They’re the right kind. Thank you, Xander.” He toyed with the plastic tines. “You called me Xander.” “So?” “You never do that.” “Well, it’s not a sign of unwavering brotherhood if that’s what you’re wondering. Look, it’s nice and all that you wanna do this for me, but if you don’t feel comfortable with it, you don’t have to. I mean, if you want to stop—“ “No!” Spike wasn’t prepared for Xander’s vehement protest. “Don’t you like your presents? I mean, they’re not expensive or—“ “Xander.” Spike put a stop to his protest “They’re fine. Great, even…Never mind. Don’t know what I was thinkin’. Now what were you musin’ on before your glorious form held me transfixed?” Spike added a sarcastic sort for good measure. No need to tell the Scooby how close to the truth his comment was. “Oh, uh...don’t remember. Nothing important, I guess.” Xander was blushing fiercely—a phenomenon Spike was pleased to notice expanded to his chest and neck. Saving the boy from more discomfort, he added, “Don’t you have to be at work soon?” As if realizing for the first time that he was wet and dripping and sitting on a vampire’s bed in only a towel, Xander nodded quickly and stood up. With a polite goodbye, Xander fled the room. Spike settled back against the wall, eight black plastic combs spilled across his chest. He plucked at each one, listening to their sound and wondering for the first time about other places that might blush as prettily as Xander’s chest. Day 6 Spike rolled onto his stomach at the ring of the alarm clock and groaned. His body still hurt from the beating he’d taken the night before. A Groshla and her mate had ambushed him and the Watcher on patrol. Though Giles had his own painful injuries, they were far less severe than the vampire’s— who had taken most of the blows from the pungent slime demon. After the fight, he'd staggered home and fallen in to bed, barely remembering to strip off his stinking clothes. He sniffed. Bloody hell. He still smelled awful. The Grashla emitted a putrid spray roughly like a skunk and Spike had been on the receiving end. “Oh. My. God. What curled up and DIED in here? I mean, besides *you*?” Xander rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one hand and covered his nose with the other as he entered Spike’s bedroom. “Groshla demon, actually. Only it wasn’t here. Was out by Sunny Acres. Apparently that band of baby-snatchers the witch was talking about has got friends.” Spike rolled to his back and stared intently at the human. “So, do I get my six trinkets now?” He reached out his hand toward the groggy boy, sitting up and letting the blankets fall low across his lap. “Yep, only you can’t ‘use’ them in here. You already smell flammable and I don’t have renter’s insurance.” Spike quirked his eyebrow questioningly and took the gift bag from Xander. Tipping it over his lap, he watched as six packages of cigarettes fell to the blankets. He couldn’t help the smile—his first in quite while—that flitted across his face. He smoothed it over and met Xander’s eyes with an amused challenge. “So, you bought these yourself?” Somehow he couldn't imagine the boy buying cigarettes. He knew the more-than-legal boy still got nervous buying beer and sometimes made the vampire do it. Afraid he might run into one of his mum’s Sunday School friends, no doubt. “I did. And that’s all you need to know.” Probably got the Watcher to do it, Spike thought. Ignoring Xander’s request, Spike ripped open one package and pulled out a cigarette. “It’ll cover up the smell,” he explained, placing it on his lip and searching for one of his new lighters. “Don’t you have work today?” Truthfully, Spike had come to dread the moment Xander left for work. The dark-haired Scooby would be off to build something manly and come home smelling of sweat and sawdust. He, on the other hand, would spend the long sunlit hours trapped in the Harris Hotel with nothing to do but watch the telly and dream about an unlife that didn’t, to coin one of Dawn’s popular turns of phrase, ‘suck the big one.’ The time alone was driving him mad. Well, madder. “It’s Sunday. Not even time-and-a-half will get me out of bed before noon on a Sunday.” The absurdity of his comment seemed to hit him. “I mean, except for giving you your present. That gets me up. Up, up out of bed…before noon on a Sunday, I mean. Because it’s before noon *now* of course. But now I’m going back to bed. You know…only six more days until Christmas. Lots of shopping to do.” Despite his sputtered words, Xander remained at the door, shifting uncomfortably and holding the sleeve of his t-shirt over his nose. “Was there somethin’ else?” Spike asked, lighting the forbidden cigarette. “I was just waiting to see if it really would cover up the smell.” He seemed ready to say more, but Spike nodded at his comment. “Pretty terrible, innit?” He blew a large plume of smoke toward the center of the room. “Gonna have to air the place out. Price you pay to fight against evil, huh?” The boy nodded and relaxed his shoulders, then turned to leave. At the last moment he turned back. “Look, if you wanna sleep in my room, that would be okay. We could just open the windows in your room. Then we’ll…*burn* your clothes, I guess.” He gestured to the fragrant pile at the foot of Spike’s bed. “And while Mother Nature’s getting the room April Fresh, where will you be, pet?” It was a shot in the dark, but Spike had to take it. If for no other reason, then to see the look on the boy’s face. “Well I’ll, I mean, I can clean the kitchen and Willow wants me to help her with a new spell, or I could—“ “But I thought you didn’t get out of bed until after noon on Sundays. Those *were* your words, weren’t they?” Oh, this *was* priceless. That lovely blush bringing so much blood to the surface… Spike knew he should feel guilty, but even his new soul seemed to enjoy the sight. Finally his conscience got the better of him and he said, “Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but—” “—or you could just sleep with me. I don’t take up that much of the covers. I’m kinda hot-blooded that way.” The pretty blush was nearly scarlet and Xander’s babble continued. “Anya says I was a turkey roaster in a past life. That or a Viking but that’s a different story. I mean, not one you would want to hear.” He shivered in the cold room and took a step back toward his bedroom. “Whatever. The offer stands.” With that, Xander stumbled back to his bed and Spike heard the squeak of springs as he flopped into it. The vampire took a long drag. This was a new development, and a delightful one at that. The way he saw it, he had two options. One, doze in his foul-smelling room until daybreak and then putter around the apartment while the boy slept. Or two, slide into a slightly-less-foul-smelling bed next to a not-foul-smelling-at-all human and steal his warmth for as long as the boy would let him. He took another drag and shivered. Stubbing out the cigarette on the side of a lamp, Spike stood up, pleased that he’d remembered underwear again. This was probably the longest he’d gone without sleeping naked. Satisfied with his newfound propriety, he lurched across the room, shivering. Wasn’t California supposed to be sunshine and tanned skin all year long? Someone should rewrite those travel guides. Xander lie sprawled across the bed, his face buried in a pillow on the left side and his feet spread toward the right. Spike stood beside the bed, unsure of what he should do. Though staring at the spread-eagle form of Xander was more than entertaining. Spike scratched his chin and Xander tensed. Before the vampire could say anything, the human rolled to one side. Spike crawled gingerly between the sheets and turned to the pleasantly warm body. Xander’s back was toward him and Spike could see the patch of skin on the back of his neck. He leaned closer to check if his assumptions were correct. Yep. Correct. Xander was blushing. Day 5 Three a.m. Hours before the alarm clock would even go off. Spike stared at the ceiling of his malodorous room and took another drag on his cigarette. The boy had let him sleep with him. The human had—scratch that—the human who *hated* him, had let him share his bed. For six glorious hours Spike had slept the sleep of the perfectly comfortable, letting the heat of Xander’s body warm him. And the smell! Gods, that intoxicating smell of fresh-cut wood that no longer left the boy when he wasn’t at work, had tempted him all morning. He’d lain next to the boy, listening to the rise and fall of his breath, until he’d drifted into a comfortable sleep himself. Later, he’d woken with a raging hard-on and a firm elbow pressed into his neck. The boy wasn’t kidding about the blankets—Spike had them all to himself—but Xander slept wildly, flinging the occasional elbow or knee into all the wrong parts of Spike’s body. He’d need protective gear when he slept with the boy again. When. Should really be *if.* Spike took another drag. He’d been up for hours, unable to sleep in the cold, funky room now that he knew a better arrangement was only a doorway away. Xander hadn’t objected when he’d woken yesterday morning. Or afternoon, as it was. He’d simply rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom quickly before making coffee. Spike had joined him minutes later and not a word had been spoken about their sleeping arrangement. Now, Spike sat in a bed that suddenly seemed far too empty and smoked a cigarette. He smoked, not because he truly wanted a cigarette, but because it seemed only fitting that he use the Christmas gift when he was thinking about Xander. Would the Scooby object if he joined him again? The room certainly did smell better, but it was by no means pleasantly scented. He could claim that the smell bothered his sensitive vampire nose and that he’d rather sleep in Xander’s room. It wasn’t *entirely* a lie. On the other hand, if the boy found out he actually *preferred* sleeping next to him, he could find himself a pile of ash come dawn. Then again, such were the risks one had to take if— “Are you still up?” Xander stood in his doorway, a glass of milk in his hand. How had he not heard him get out of bed? Too caught up in his brooding, obviously. Getting more and more like his bloody grandsire every day. “I thought you got back from patrol a couple of hours ago.” “Couldn’t sleep, I guess. Smell, you know.” He took another pull and blew smoke toward the center of the room. “Yeah, it *is* still kinda rank in here.” The dark-haired boy quickly brought the glass to his lips, gulping the milk quickly. Spike watched the bob of Xander’s Adam’s apple and found himself envying a glass of milk for the first time. Bloody hell! What was his unlife coming to? Pining after someone who hated him (But gave him Christmas presents, a small voice added.) and preparing to beg for the privilege of sleeping in said enemy’s bed. With no milk left to distract him, Xander finally shrugged his shoulders. “If it’s too bad for you to sleep, you can sleep with me again. If you want to, you know. You don’t have to.” He blushed again and made for the kitchen before Spike could answer. The vampire didn’t need to be told twice. As Xander entered the bedroom, Spike was already bedding down with a majority of the blankets and both pillows. The boy grinned. “I demand at least a pillow. It’s only fair.” “You snooze, you lose.” The vampire smirked and drew his arms up over his head to clutch firmly on both pillows while the blanket that covered him drifted to his waist. The human’s smile faltered and Spike caught a whiff of something he couldn’t identify. It wasn’t unusual. His nose had been a bit wonky since his battle with the Groshla but it would pass in time. For now, he could smell little unless it was right under his nose. “You’re right. I’ll get one from the closet.” Xander was gone before Spike could chuck the pillow at him as he’d intended. When he returned, he climbed into bed and fluffed the shabby, second-string pillow, then settled in to bed with his back toward the vampire. Spike took in deep breaths of Xander-scented air and tried not to notice the way his body was responding to the warm human next to him. Amazing how Xander’s smell was stronger than the Groshla odor. Lucky, really. The other mysterious scent was gone. He tipped his face closer to the dark curls of Xander’s hair and breathed the sweet, woody smell again. “Are you *sniffing* me?” “Wha—?” Spike nearly choked and pulled back from the human. “You were! You were smelling me! Is that some kind of vampire thing? Can you smell my blood if I’m not even bleeding? You know, not a great way to make a blood-pumper feel at ease. Especially one who’s letting you sleep in his bed.” “What? No! I wasn’t—I mean, I *was* smelling you, but not to bite you! I mean, I wouldn’t bite you. Or anyone. Soul now, remember?” Hell! He was beginning to sound like Red. “But you *were* smelling me?” “No! I mean, yeah, I was smelling you. But I wasn’t *smelling* you.” “That makes absolutely no sense. How can you smell someone and *not* smell someone.” “I don’t know! You just smell…I don’t know! You just didn’t smell bad. And my room…Never mind.” The vampire rolled to the side so that his back faced the human. “I know what it is,” Xander said quietly. Spike rolled over and looked at the human who was propped on one arm. “You do?” He was buggered. He was completely and totally buggerd. There was no way around it. The only question remaining was whether Xander would stake him himself or get Buffy to do it. For that matter, Harris might send a couple of those potentials to do it for ‘im. Be good practice. “Yeah.” Xander turned over and rummaged on the ground next to him. Then he sat up with a triumphant grin—and a square, gold-wrapped package. “Here!” At Spike’s quizzical look, Xander added, “Five days until Christmas!” The vampire ripped at the paper and opened the box. Five cans of room deodorizer slid out. “See? Once your room airs out, you can make it smell nice. There’s Cherry, and Lemon, and Vanilla, and for those that don’t favor room deodorizer in the food-scented genre, there’s Country Meadows and Lilac.” Spike laughed. A *real* laugh that reached his eyes and had him near tears, then he looked at Xander. The human had a decidedly confused look on his face. “I know they’re not *fancy* air fresheners, but they didn’t have ‘cigarette and leather’ scented deodorizer so I had to make do.” Xander scowled. Christ. The human thought he was making fun of him. Spike wiped tears from his eyes. “No, mate. They’re great. Really. It’s not the gift. It’s…nothing you’d understand.” He composed himself and set the box on the floor. “You should sleep. Got work tomorrow an’ all.” The vampire slid deeper under the covers. Next to him, Xander lay down, pacified. When Spike could at last hear the even breathing that signaled Xander was asleep, he pressed his nose one last time against the fragrant curls and then slept himself. Day 4 It was nearly one o’clock and Spike staggered to his bed gratefully. Never had a bed looked so appealing. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, but it was most definitely in the top ten most appealing beds he’d seen. He peeled off his duster and dropped it in an untidy heap on the floor. Then he kicked off his shoes and heard Xander mirror his actions in the next room. “I know you said those things smelled, but you didn’t mention the *mucus,* Spike!” Xander called, flinging a slime-coated shoe through the doorway and toward the sticky demon. “I can hardly move. That crap is *so* cold and just dries to you like—” Spike wondered how Xander intended to finish that sentence but before he could ask, the other shoe followed. “*I* didn’t make you charge the Grashla. That was all *your* doin’.” “She had you in a headlock! You’re telling me you had some sort of *plan* on how to get out of it?” Spike remained silent. He pulled the crusty tee over his head and let it join its filthy counterparts on the floor. “Only real question now is, who gets the shower first?” “My apartment. I get it first.” “Where’s your Christmas spirit, Harris? Think I should get at least four minutes headstart.” He stripped off his mucus-crusted jeans and underwear and kicked them to the growing pile. Spike shivered. There was a draft coming from somewhere. His bedroom window was still open from their desperate attempt to clear the smell from the room. He closed the window, but he could still feel the cold air. The living room curtains billowed under a strong breeze and Spike shivered again. He moved to the living room, going from window to window until all were shut. “You’ll get your four presents. I’m not giving up shower privileges for—” Xander’s words were cut off. Spike turned to see the young man staring at him. “Well get to it, donut boy. The slime and I are waiting for our turn.” Xander shook his head quickly, as if to clear the image of a naked, blue-crusted Spike out of his mind. Then he nodded and nearly leaped into the bathroom. Spike’s window was closed. The living room windows were closed. Where was that draft coming from? The newsman said that tonight would reach record lows. While Spike could stand the cold, he didn’t particularly *enjoy* it; and he knew Xander liked it even less. Xander. He entered his bedroom. Sure enough, the draft was coming from this room. He pulled unsuccessfully at the offending window. Hell! It was stuck and no force, including vampire strength apparently, was going to make it budge without ripping the whole thing apart. He heard the water stop and, in a moment, Xander emerged with a towel around his waist. “Why are you in my room?” “Bloody window’s stuck, mate. Don’t know what you did to it, but—” “What *I* did to it? I didn’t do anything! I hardly *touch* that window. If anyone should be blamed for that window, it should be *you*!” “How do you figure that, pet?” Spike scowled at the young man. It was just like a human to blame every triviality on a vampire. “Oh, there’s blond hair clogging the sink!”, “Who left blood on the last slice of pizza?”, “Did you have anything to do with the rash of brutal slayings?” It always came back to a vampire, didn’t it? Well not any more. “You’re the one that stunk up the place. And because of that, we had to open all of the windows because opening one window wasn’t cutting it. And now, the window won’t shut. Ergo, it’s your fault.” “You done with your rant?” Xander sighed. “Yes.” “Good. ‘cause in case you didn’t notice, some of the demons in this room don’t have any clothes on.” Spike wagged his brow suggestively and then swept into the bathroom. Not like the boy would have noticed the vampire’s nudity without being told. He could be bloody stupid. Okay, that wasn’t true. But it felt true at times, Spike thought as he turned on the shower. Spike stepped under the hot spray of the shower and let the blue crust wash from his body. At least the mucus didn’t smell. Smell. Gods but Harris smelled good. Spike shook his head, trying to clear thoughts of Xander from his mind. When he was sufficiently clean, he turned off the shower and dried himself and then covered himself with a towel. Leaving the bathroom, the cold air hit his moist skin almost painfully. Hell! The boy must be positively *freezing* if Spike was this cold. Turkey roaster or not. He entered his bedroom and found Xander already curled under his covers. “Lose your way, pet?” “Nope. Window’s broken. I can’t sleep in *my* bed. Window’s your fault…hence, I sleep in your bed. It’s a simple equation.” “Never took you for a math whiz. Thought that was more Red’s thing.” “Just get in.” The words were intended to be an order but regardless of their intent, they sent a delicious shiver up Spike’s spine. He dropped his towel and rummaged through a pile of somewhat clean laundry. “You should be pleased. I’ve started wearing underwear to bed since your ‘Twelve Days of Holiday Diversion’ game started.” Having found his prize, he slipped them on and turned to the bed where Xander lay, refusing to make eye contact with the vampire. He pulled back the covers and crawled inside. “Yeah, it makes me jump for joy every time I think you *aren’t* trying to torture me. Now can we get some sleep? Some of us have to *work* tomorrow.” Xander punched at the pillow and settled in with his back to the vampire. “You always do that.” “Do what?” Xander responded defensively. “Sleep on your side so you don’t have to look at me. You do that with Anya?” Xander turned, his eyes flashing. Spike was instantly regretful that he’d mentioned the demon. “This is *so* not the same thing. Anya was my girlfriend. You’re just…this freeloading leech that sucks all my energy. Go to bed.” Wounded, Spike lay his head on the pillow. Girlfriend. The word sent odd pangs of jealousy and resentment rippling through his body. What a ridiculous sod he’d become. Pining for a bumbling, whining, child and spending his nights coated in slime and smelling like something a Ranthor dragged in. He’d let a few kind words and well-timed trinkets delude him. No more. He shucked his boxers defiantly and rolled until he was as far away from the human as he could possibly be. He tossed uncomfortably on the bed for another hour and continued to stare at the strip of skin he was beginning to become familiar with. There was no blush now. He mourned the loss of the pretty color and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come. *** The alarm startled him from a sound sleep. He’d been having a marvelous dream about something…marvelous. Why was it that he could never remember his dreams? The alarm continued to sound and he hit it into submission. Why was it in *his* room exactly? Spike felt a shift next to him and the events of the previous night came crashing back in on him. Stupid, flamin’ git. Insipid bastard. He wasn’t sure who he was insulting, Xander or himself, but it sounded right. He had to get out of bed, to get far away from the beautiful sleeping creature that hated him. He started to move, but the vampire was surprised when Xander shifted next to him, tucking his head against his shoulder. The boy wasn’t kidding. He was like a furnace and Spike gratefully wrapped his extended arm loosely around him. Xander snuggled deeper, turning his face toward the skin of Spike’s chest and drawing his arm across— Spike gasped. A nearly searing hot hand rested on his dick quite pleasantly. Dark curls tickled his nose and there was that woody smell again. Xander’s words the night before stung him, though, and he stared at the ceiling, willing his body not to respond. His body didn’t listen. Xander yawned sleepily and twitched in his arms. The heal of his hand ground into Spike’s crotch and the vampire let out a low, ecstatic moan. Suddenly, brown eyes were staring at him. “Wha? Did? Huh?” Xander blinked rapidly, trying to come to. “Morning pet. Was it good for you, too?” Spike spat and sat up quickly. “I think you should see about getting your window fixed.” He leapt from the bed and shut himself in the bathroom. Xander followed him to the door. “You said you slept with underwear! You told me!” “I lied,” Spike said, popping his head out of the door briefly and then shutting himself back in. “But I *saw* you put on underwear!” “Took it off again,” he called through the door. “I *do* have that ability. Or did you think that, how did you put it? ‘A freeloading, energy-sucking leech’ wouldn’t know how to do something so difficult as shuck their pants?” He turned on the shower and let the running water muffle Xander’s retort. When he emerged, Xander was sitting with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cup of blood in the other. A large box rested on the bed. “Four more days!” Xander said cautiously. He passed the blood to the dripping vampire who took it in his free hand. “Wha’s this for?” “That? That’s an ‘I’m sorry I was an asshole’ present. And *this* is your Christmas present.” He indicated the heavy box on the bed. “This is one I *know* you’re going to like.” Spike eyed the present warily and then opened the lid. Four bottles of Jack Daniels. Damn, but it was perfect. Spike continued to stare at the alcohol without speaking. He could feel Xander watching his reaction and thanked the vampire powers that be for his inability to blush. “Had to be expensive,” the vampire finally said, unable to meet Xander’s eyes. “Yeah, well that’s why I didn’t give ‘em to you on the eleventh day. Would have broken the bank. Anyway, if you’re done, I’ll take a shower. And, um…” Xander suddenly blushed. “I am *really* sorry about what I said. It wasn't true. And I'm also sorry about, you know, this morning. With the naughty touching. It won’t happen again,” he mumbled. Then he left for the bathroom. Spike sat in complete fog. What had just happened? He was mad at the boy, he knew that. Then, within a couple of minutes, his growing adoration for the boy returned. It was crazy. Maybe he *was* mad. Day 3 The alarm hadn't gone off yet, but Spike could hear Xander rummaging in the kitchen. The human was trying to be quiet, but the vampire could hear the refrigerator door opening and closing and Xander bumping into the counter over and over again. He'd come to learn that Xander wasn't especially coordinated in the mornings. Spike stared at the small sliver of kitchen light that peeked under his door. He didn't remember shutting it the night before. Maybe the boy did it so Spike wouldn't hear what he was doing. The boy was becoming a problem. Bollocks. He had to find a new sleeping arrangement. Living with Xander was a cruel situation indeed. He'd grown more and more attached to him in the last week and it was driving him crazy. If only he knew the boy felt something for him besides indifference or pity… Then again, he didn't really deserve much more than that. Spike heard a squeak outside his door and he rolled over. The doorknob twisted and Xander came in quietly. "You're early," Spike chuckled, staring the young man's dark form. Xander switched on the light quickly. "Dammit, Spike! Don't surprise me like that! I almost dropped them!" "Almost dropped what, pet?" Xander set the tray he was carrying. On it was a large bowl of ice and within the ice rested three packets of blood, decoratively arranged with holly. "Three days 'til Christmas," Xander said. "It's human. Well, I think it is. I didn't check or anything. And before you say anything, *I* didn't get it--Giles did. He said to say thanks for being the Human Shield the other night with the Groshla." Spike swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. "You don't have to drink it right now. You can save it or something but Martha says it's all about presentation, so--" Xander's words were stopped by cool lips on his own. He'd barely registered the phenomenon before Spike was mumbling, "Thank you," and shutting himself in the bathroom. Xander sat on the bed, stunned and confused with his lips still burning. His cock was a little slow on the uptake. It was twitching long after Xander heard the water start. *** Inside the bathroom, Spike was sitting on the edge of the tub. The water was running, untouched, before him. This was his penance, he decided. This was the pain of redemption he'd asked for. Giles bought him blood. Dawn picked out nailpolish, and Xander thought enough of him to indulge the vampire in a little Christmas fun before the whole bleedin' world disappeared. He had nothing to give them in return and that thought burned him to the core. He watched the water run down the drain and he made a plan. He'd help Giles from now on. Really help, not wait until the next demon was ready to crush him like a melon and *then* help, as he'd done up to now (although that *was* fun). And he'd pay more attention to Dawn. He cringed at the thought of the gossip and hair braiding he'd have to endure, but it was worth it. They gave him gifts and he could return the gesture. But the boy…He'd opened his home, his pocketbook, hell, his *bed* to the vamp and there was nothing he could do in return. He'd just taken and taken for nine days and never returned. He vowed then and there to find something to repay the boy. There had to be something the boy would like in return. He just had to figure out what it was. *** "So…what are you getting Xander for Christmas?" Spike asked Dawn later that day. She sat on the couch scooping fingerfuls of cookie dough from a plastic tube and shoving them into her mouth. Spike grimaced and averted his eyes. Humans could be *so* disgusting. "Buffy and I got him a new CD player for his car," she said around a glob of dough. "CD player? That's good…." He let his eyes stray to the teen movie on the television. "And Red? What's she gettin' him?" "Willow? She doesn't really celebrate Christmas, but I think she got him a sweater or something. They do it every year." "Sweater. Good…good…and the Watcher?" "Spike! Get to the point!" "What? I'm just askin'--" "You've been talking about Xander nonstop through three commercial breaks. I thought you said you wanted to invite me over so we could be closer. You know, like before Buffy came back." "I did--I *do*, love. Sorry. I'm just really bad at this gift-giving thing and Xander's been really good. Wanna do something *special* for him. You know, 'thanks for wasting your dosh on a useless vamp like me.' " "You're not useless, Spike. And it's not wasted." "No?" "Nope!" she said brightly. "If it's stuff you use, and it makes you happy, then it wasn't a waste, right?" Spike though about what Dawn said for a minute. "So, maybe I should think of something Xander could use…something that would make him happy. That would be a good gift, right?" "Yeah, I guess so," Dawn said noncommittally, her eyes glued to the television once again. Spike rolled his eyes. Teenage attention spans. Now…what could Xander *use* that would make him *happy*? Day 2 Spike's bedroom seemed lighter than usual. That was the first thought that woke him. The next thought to run through his mind was of Xander. He sat up quickly, searching for a clock. When he couldn't find one in his room, he quickly pulled on a shirt and stumbled to the kitchen to check the digital display on the microwave. On the way, he tripped over a small floor fan they'd left blowing in an effort to clear the last of the Groshla smell out of the house. Bloody hell. He quickly went to Xander's room. "Harris! Oy! Get up! You're late!" Xander grumbled and buried himself deeper under the covers. "Xander! It's almost seven, pet. You're gonna get fired. Come on, then…" Spike knelt next to the bed, shaking Xander's shoulder. "Go 'way, Ahn," Xander mumbled. "Hey! I'm not your demon bint, you lazy--oh!" Spike's words were cut off as Xander grabbed his wrist and yanked him onto the bed. The vampire tumbled over Xander's body and found himself smothered by a large construction worker. "It's Christmas Eve, Spike!" Xander said with a laugh. "No work today. No work! No work!" He began to do a little happy dance over Spike's body. "I don't have to GO TO WORK…GO TO WORK…GO TO WORK…I don't have to GO TO WORK…," he sang, wriggling over the trapped vampire. Spike couldn’t help but laugh at Xander's antics. He laughed until his side hurt and he had to roll into a ball to ease the pain. Xander rolled off of him and propped himself up on one arm. "And you know what I have planned for this glorious day?" "No. Enlighten me," Spike gasped, still laughing. "Nothing! I'm going to SLEEP! *That's* my plan!" He flung his head to his pillow and feigned snoring. "Sounds like a right jolly Christmas Eve plan indeed." Spike sat up and swung his legs to the side of the bed, trying to disguise the noticeable erection that had sprung up thanks to Xander's impromptu show of Christmas zeal. "Do *you* have a plan?" Xander asked. "Not really, pet. Thought maybe I'd just take yours," he said with mock-seriousness. "Oh," Xander said. "Well just don't take my pillow then, Fangface." Xander pulled his arm from the other side of the bed and burrowed under the covers, moving discretely to allow Spike half of the bed. The vampire was baffled. A few minutes ago, he was scrambling across the cold apartment, trying to save the whelp's job and now he was invited into the human's bed. Xander'd invited him. Again. That was the baffling part. Just rolled over as if there was nothing strange about it. Slowly, Spike lowered himself back into the bed, afraid to move too quickly, lest Xander change his mind and boot him right back out again. Spike turned on his side, facing Xander. The human lay on his back with his eyes closed. The vampire stared at the long lashes brushing golden cheeks and sighed contentedly. As if sensing the vampire's scrutiny, Xander turned to his side to face him. "See? I don't *always* turn the other way when I get in bed." With that, he closed his eyes and in a few moments, Spike could tell that he was asleep. He let several more minutes pass until he was sure Xander was sleeping deeply. Then he scooted closer, tucking his head under Xander's chin and breathing deeply. He didn't know how long the Harris Christmas Spirit was going to last, but he wanted to take advantage of it while it was here. *** There were children screaming outside. Not the blood-curdling screams of Spike's heyday, but the frantic shouts of children at play. Spike opened one blurry eye and gazed across the room toward the shaded window. The sun was up. It must be past ten. He stretched and rolled over, right into the arms of a still-dozing Xander. With a start, Xander's eyes popped open and Spike found himself staring into deep, brown pools. The boy was so close…if he leaned forward right now, he could--" Xander sat up quickly, swinging his lets over the side of the bed and rummaging under his bed. With barely disguised disappointment, Spike got out of bed, too. "The second day of Christmas," Xander said by way of explanation. He passed Spike a large, flat box. The vampire scowled at the defenseless box and ripped open the paper. "I know your other ones got slimed or smell bad, so Dawn and I went shopping. If I got the wrong sizes, just let me know. I can exchange them." Spike looked at the two black t-shirts lying in the box. He fingered the soft fabric with a smile. "These will do just fine, mate. Thanks." Xander grinned modestly and an odd silence hung between them. Spike quickly stripped off his shirt and took one from the box. He turned it upside down, preparing to try it on. "Wow! Look at the time! My plan worked *really* well. Almost slept the day away. Yep. I better go take a shower." Before Spike knew what was happening, he was alone in the bedroom with his new shirt halfway over his head. God, how the boy loved his showers--almost as much as the vamp himself did. And that smell when he'd passed him…rather like that mystery scent he'd caught a whiff of off and on lately. He was glad that the Groshla smell was mostly gone from the apartment. His nose was slowly recovering but it would be another day before he stopped smelling the skunky odor. It was one of the biggest drawbacks to vampire powers. His sniffer was almost *too* sensitive. Spike sighed and rolled to his back, listening to the running water and imagining Xander's skin turning pink under the hot spray. Day 1-Christmas Morning Spike awoke early, his belly burning with excitement. For the first time in twelve days he'd 'one-up' the boy. The vampire swung his legs out of bed and began poking under his bed, searching for his prize. It hadn't been easy, finding Xander the perfect present. And on Christmas Eve, no less. But find it he had, and even wrapped it himself in old newspapers. It wasn't pretty but it *was* perfect. With his gift in hand, Spike crept quietly to Xander's darkened room. He hesitated at his bedside, enjoying the site of the dark-haired Scooby sprawled across the bed, tangled in the sheets with his underpants riding low on his hips. It would only take a second to have those boxers off and across the room… Shaking the image from his mind, he stepped back in order to get a running leap. He counted to three, then launched himself across the room, landing squarely on Xander's bed. "Ooof!" the human groaned, sitting up with a start. "Spike?" The vampire bounced excitedly on the bed. "Merry Bloody Christmas, Xander." "Huh?" Xander yawned, still confused. "Christmas Morning, boy. That event? The one you've been taunting me with for twelve solid days? It's arrived. Here!" Spike thrust the poorly wrapped gift at Xander who took it with fumbling hands. "You got me something?" "That's the tradition, right?" "Yeah. I mean, sure it's tradition. I just thought you--" "Just open it, pet. You're not gettin' any younger here." Xander ripped off the newspaper and stared at the gift inside. His mouth opened slightly and a bewildered look crossed his face and stayed there. "You like it? It's the Teledyne Water Pik. Has eight settings including a pause and the new oval spray design which is supposed to 'better conform spraying water to the vertical stature of the human body' or some such thing. Uses less water than a regular showerhead and has 'an ergonomic handle'. Thought with all your handyman know-how you could install it yourself and then you could just camp out in that bathroom of yours to your heart's content, seeing as how you spend most of your time in there anyway." Xander was still staring at him, confusion mapping every line in his face. Spike's gleeful smile faltered. "I know the wrapping isn't perfect but I didn't think you much cared how it was packaged." Xander's brow crinkled as he stared at the shower massager. The smile that had lit Spike's face officially fell and he snatched the box out of Xander's hands. "Fine, pet. You don't like it. You could at least *pretend* to be amused by it." Xander shook his head and grasped Spike's hand before he could leave the bed. "I like it, Spike. I do. That's why…" He reached under a pile of clothes on the side of his head and pulled out a large giftbag covered in dancing Santas. "I got you this." He handed Spike the bag and the vampire quickly dumped its contents on the bed. Staring up at him was the identical shower massager. Spike began to laugh. Within seconds Xander joined him and the two clutched their gifts protectively to their chest. "You're returning yours," Xander ordered. "Am not! You're returning *yours.*" "Which one of us knows how to *install* a shower massager?" "Well which one of us will leave perverse messages on the answering machine of someone's mum until the other one returns his shower massager?" "Oh, you're evil." "Tha's what I keep telling people. Now go install it 'fore I start makin' phone calls." Xander turned a wry grin to the vampire and retreated to the bathroom where he began unpacking the box. Spike shivered in the cold apartment and then wandered to the kitchen to content himself with a cup of Christmas Blood, complements of the Watcher. The sun would be out soon and he'd be trapped in the apartment once again until the festivities at the Summers' house commenced. Some time later, Spike heard a small crash, a thump, and an audible "ouch!" from the bathroom. By the time he reached the Scooby, Xander was packing up the last of his tools and rubbing a bruised toe. "What is it this time, Harris? The showerhead bite you?" "No, I dropped a wrench on my foot if you must know." "Oh, boo-hoo. Is it finished?" "A little compassion, Fangless. I'm in pain." "If the toe's still attached, it can't be too bad." "You are a cold, cold man." "Then heat me up! Turn the bloody thing on so we can try it out!" Spike had never been a patient vampire, as evidenced by the way he hopped impatiently from foot to foot. At Spike's words, Xander blushed and fiddled with the nozzle, adjusting it and readjusting it. A peculiar scent emanated from the boy and for the first time in a week, Spike could tell what it was. Bloody hell! He was so blind! Over a century as a vampire and he couldn't pick up the scent of arousal when it was released. Sure, the Groshla had overpowered most every scent in the house for days, and it wasn't as though the boy was walking around spouting pheromones at the very site of the vampire's dirty knickers, but *still.* Spike chastised himself. He should have been able to identify it before now. It should have been bloody obvious that Xander… Xander. The boy had turned the water on, but was still adjusting the showerhead, trying his hardest not to meet the vampire's eyes. Spike stared at the lovely pink blush on the back of Xander's neck and grinned. Oh, he was going to have fun. "Xander?" "Yeah?" "I've decided that I think you're right. I should return my gift to you. I'll find something else to give you. Something you'll like just as much. Maybe *more* even." Xander turned around. "Well, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. I mean, you didn't have to get anything in the first place but I wouldn’t want you to have to go out twice just for me." "Oh, but you've gone out, let's see…twelve times for me. It's only fair I repay you twelve times." "O-Okay," Xander mumbled in confusion. Steam rolled out from behind the shower curtain and the mirror began to fog. Spike pulled the door closed, shutting the two men in. Xander looked baffled and dropped the lid on his toolbox with a bang. The room became thick with steam and the trapped heat made it feel like a sauna. In one smooth move, Spike slipped his new t-shirt off and dropped it to the ground. The he reached for the thin, white cotton shirt that Xander wore. "Woah! Hey there, Mr. Grabby. What are ya doing?" "Thought we could take your shower for a test drive, mate. Can't very well shower with your clothes on, can you?" Spike slipped his hands under the soft fabric and let his palms run over the smooth skin he found beneath as he lifted the shirt. Xander held still, staring at the vamp with a blank look on his face. Spike knew better, though. Or rather, his nose knew better. The pheromones he'd caught a whiff of moments earlier were back-and even stronger. Spike dropped Xander's shirt to the floor with the other and ran his hands down to the boxers Xander was wearing. "Wait! What are you--I mean, do we need to--" Xander choked. "Xander," Spike said with mock-irritation, "I know you don't intend on showering fully-clothed and your underwear are still considered clothes so, off with them." "You first!" Xander cried desperately. Spike quirked an eyebrow at the dark-haired man and then bent to remove his own boxers. Xander hadn't asked him to stop which confirmed what his sniffer had already determined. Naked and gloating, the vampire climbed into the shower, leaving a confused Scooby leaning against the sink in the steam-filled room. Spike ducked under the throbbing spray and let the scalding water drench him. Then he stuck his head out of the curtain. "You comin' in?" Xander walked to the edge of the curtain uncertainly. "Well…I mean, I guess it--" Before he could finish making an excuse, Spike yanked the young man in. Xander stumbled over the edge of the tub and almost fell onto the tiled floor before the vamp caught him. He sputtered under the hot spray, blinded by sudden water in his eye, while Spike's arms encircled him. Xander rubbed water from his eyes. "Spike," he sputtered, "What are you doing? You wanna *kill* me?" He pulled back and brought his hands to the young man's face so he couldn't turn away. "No, I'm not trying to *kill* you, Xander," he said with exasperation. "Tryin' to *seduce* you, but you're makin' it very difficult." At "seduce," Xander's eyes opened almost comically wide and he took a step back. Spike's shoulders sagged and he dropped his hands to his sides, defeated. He knew the boy wanted him. He *knew* it! But if he wasn't ready, or worse, if he wanted to simply torment the vampire, Spike could find better ways to get tortured. "Sorry I bothered you," he muttered. "Just thought maybe you felt the same way I did. You can get out, 'cause I give up. Come nightfall, I'm findin' other arrangements. Rather live with the Watcher again than let you tease me--" Hungry lips, warm and wet, pressed over his own, silencing his words. He stood in dumbfounded inactivity for a few brief seconds, then almost cried with relief as he realized that Xander was kissing him, and kissing him well. He opened his mouth and Xander slid his slick tongue inside, hungrily mapping the new terrain. Spike growled into his mouth and wrapped his hands around Xander's hips, pulling him closer. Running his hands further down Xander's hips, he realized that the young man still had his boxers on. With something akin to a laugh, he broke the kiss and glanced down at the dripping fabric. "Let's get rid of these, shall we?" Xander nodded. His body was flushed from arousal and hot water. Spike pressed his face to the pink skin of Xander's chest and kissed a trail toward the nearly transparent fabric. Xander's cock strained at the soggy material and Spike yanked at the offending underwear, trying to untangle the swollen shaft from its prison. Xander stumbled, nervously clinging to Spike's shoulders, as the vampire finally slid them off. Xander stepped out of the boxers and Spike flung them to the bathroom floor. It looked like Xander was going to say something about getting water on his floor but the vampire took advantage of his position and left a tentative lick to the end of Xander's dick. Any complaint was squelched in an instant as Xander cried out happily. "Oh, god!" Xander kneaded his fingers into the tender skin of Spike's neck and shoulders. "Really wanted…all week…maybe longer, I don't…" Spike turned all of his attention to the purple length in front of him. He knew he couldn’t offer Xander much in the way of tangible reciprocation for the twelve gifts he'd received. He had no fortune to speak of, no great gifts to offer the young man who'd shown him such consideration. But he knew there were a *few* things he was good at, and Xander seemed more than ready to accept his gifts. With devotion, he worked his mouth over Xander's cock, reveling in the soft gasps and gentle cries coming form the Scooby. "Spike…god, this feels…you feel…ohgod!" Xander cried out, coming with a groan into the vampire's eager mouth. Spike swallowed happily and licked the human clean. He smiled from his crouched position then purred, "One present down." Xander was wobbling on unsteady legs and Spike realized the human was ready to fall. He stood quickly, wrapping strong arms around Xander and turning him until he stood square under the spray. "Relax, pet," he purred. Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, he quickly lathered Xander's hair and ran soapy hands over his broad shoulders and chest. Then he slid foamy hands down each arm, across Xander's hips and down each leg. With a wicked smile, he added soap to his hands and slid one slippery digit into the cleft of Xander's ass. The young man cried out is surprise as Spike cleaned him thoroughly, but Spike was pleased to note that he didn't move away from the exploring finger. Xander offered little resistance, draping one arm happily over the vampire and using the other for balance. "Now," Spike said matter-of-factly, "let's *really* test this shower." He adjusted the knob and lifted the hand-held head from the wall, aiming the soothing spray over Xander's head. Warm, soapy water rinsed across the human's face and he sighed happily. Spike continued to rinse him off, lingering at Xander's twitching cock and adjusting the spray to a more powerful level as he rinsed Xander's ass. A soft smile played at Xander's lips. "Like that, do you pet?" Xander nodded slowly, his eyes meeting Spike's. "Of course. It's a good showerhead," Xander teased breathlessly. "Oh, it's the *showerhead* you like?" Spike asked innocently. The water was beginning to grow cool and his skin had long since begun to prune. "Let's see if there's anything besides the new pressie that gets you off." He turned the water off and the silence was surprising to both men. Xander reached for a towel, but Spike smacked his hand playfully away. He claimed the towel and rubbed the man down, then toweled himself dry. Xander stood awkwardly in the steamy bathroom, watching Spike run the towel over perfectly muscled legs. Xander took a deep breath. "Spike, I want…I mean, I've been thinking about you for a while. And I…I…" Spike tossed the towel to the ground, next to the wet boxers. "Hush pet." The vampire silenced him with another kiss that left the human breathless. "I know." "What?" "I know. Look, doesn't matter." He rolled his hips toward the human, his erection pressing against Xander's belly. "Want you, too. World's endin', mate. Don't worry, don't think, just feel." He smiled softly and opened the bathroom door. The chilly air hit each man both shivered. "Let's get you warmed up, pet." He led Xander to the bedroom they'd left earlier, running hands over steamy pink skin, trying to keep it warm. Xander stumbled to the bed where Spike shoved him gently. They tumbled onto the soft fabric and Xander's lips were once again engulfed. The vampire began grinding his erection into Xander's hip, trying to bring himself off. Xander's own dick was stirring to life. He wrapped one leg around the vampire and moved his mouth to Spike's ear. "What can I do? You know, to…" Xander ran his fingers nervously over Spike's hard length. Spike continued to grind into Xander's hip. "You're doin' fine, mate. This is just fine." "Well…I mean--" Xander gasped as Spike moved over him, pinning his arms to the bed and rubbing their erections together. "You mean, what else can you do to make me happy, huh? Make a Christmas memory?" Spike asked, quirking his head to the side and grinding especially hard. Xander groaned and met his thrust, nodding. "Yeah…guess so…" "Ah…That's what I thought. Not gonna let you do that. Can't give me any more pressies." He released one of Xander's hands and allowed one finger to trail across the young man's lips. "This is *your* present. Next eleven times, anyway. After that, you can ask me that question." Xander opened his mouth to protest, but Spike slipped the finger inside and Xander began suckling it hungrily. The site of Xander eagerly sucking his finger combined with the inexperienced man's enthusiastic thrusts soon had the vampire climaxing. He shot his cool seed over Xander's flushed skin, enjoying the pleased look it elicited from Xander. Spike continued to rub his softening cock against Xander's as he removed the wet finger. "Spike, you don't have to--" Xander cried out as the vampire entered him roughly with a saliva and semen slicked finger. The vampire smirked at the young man as he worked the finger inside his body. After his initial outcry, Xander was silent, his eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing in silent cries of pleasure. Spike worked the finger urgently, trying to find Xander's prostate. He was rewarded when Xander's body suddenly arched upward and the human cried out the vampire's name, coming for the second time that morning with an ecstatic moan. As Xander's orgasm was coming to a shuddering end, Spike whispered into his ear, "Two presents…" and then left a kiss on his neck. Utterly exhausted, both men lay in a happy stupor in Xander's bed. The vampire curled into the human's arms, burying his nose in the damp curls at Xander's neck. He breathed deeply of the woody scent and sighed contentedly. "You're sniffing me again." "Uh-huh." Spike pulled a leg over Xander's body, trying to steal some of the young man's heat. "You don't find that a little odd?" "Not in the slightest." Xander continued to look confused. "Look, if you have to know, I keep smelling you 'cause you smell so fucking *good.* Is that okay?" Xander grinned at the vampire. "Oh, if that's the case, I suppose I could allow it." Xander ran his hand through the wet, curling blond strands of Spike's hair. "Did you really mean it about the twelve…presents? Or ten now, I guess." "Um-hum," the vampire mumbled sluggishly. "And after that?" The vampire considered his response for a moment. "Well, then there's Boxing Day," he finally said. "We're not Canadian," Xander laughed. "Doesn't matter. And New Years. Kwaanza-that's a couple of days." "Valentine's Day," Xander added with a yawn. "Presidents Day. Waitangi Day." "Huh?" "New Zealand thing. We should respect other cultures, Xander." Spike slapped his ass playfully. "Right…" "Labor Day..." the vampire volunteered, drifting off. "St. Patrick's Day…" Xander yawned. "When is Arbor Day again?" Spike asked as he fell asleep, content in Xander's arms. -The End- |
| Twelve Days |
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