Part 9/?

Spike stared resolutely down at the stove top,
concentrating on the blood he
was warming. He was hungry and he needed to eat. As
long he stayed
focussed on those two facts he wouldn’t lose control.
He just needed to get
something to eat. He didn’t need to think about what
he’d smelled when he’d
walked into the apartment. He’d needed blood, yes,
but he’d also wanted to
check and make sure that the bugs had been removed
from the apartment. He
had checked with the demons he’d intimidated into
watching the apartment and
received confirmation that no strange men or cars had
been seen hanging
about. He hadn’t wanted to leave Xander alone, but he
hadn’t thought
anything could happen in the short time he was gone.

No. He wasn’t thinking about that. Not until he’d
had something to eat.
He heated the blood just long enough for it to be
lukewarm and then bolted
it. As the blood filled him with borrowed life, he
washed his dishes and
put them away, giving himself time to calm down and
move past the hunger
that had been distracting him. It was more difficult
to keep the urges
toward blood and violence under control when he hadn’t
eaten.

The kitchen clean, he couldn’t put it off any longer.
He walked into the
living room, eyes fixed on Xander. The dark-haired
man sat on the couch,
drinking the soda that Graham had given him before
leaving. The scents
surrounding him had faded, but Spike could still catch
their echoes:
arousal and nervousness, excitement and pleasure.
Something had happened
while he was gone, something between Xander and
Graham. It wasn’t just
Graham, either; for the first time since Anya had
left, Spike could smell
Xander’s desire. Graham had made some kind of move on
Xander, one that
Xander had liked.

Graham had touched Spike’s Xander. Spike made a
mental note to have the
soldier killed as soon as possible.

He wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. He
knew Xander wasn’t going
to want to talk about it, but he wasn’t just going to
let him go without a
fight. He loved Xander and he needed to let him know
that.

He sat down on the couch beside Xander, wonder what
the hell he was going to
say. With Dru he hadn’t really needed words, and
Harmony would fall for any
quick line of bullshit he threw at her. Playing with
the Slayer had taken
planning, but he hadn’t meant anything by it. It was
a game, one he didn’t
want to lose, but a game all the same. This was no
game. Love was many
things, but it definitely wasn’t a game. He looked
into Xander’s eyes,
hoping the words would come.

What he saw distracted him completely. Xander’s face
was marked with lines
of pain, his eyes half-shut as he slowly turned his
head to look at Spike.
“Are you still hurting?” Spike asked, worry for Xander
sweeping away
everything else.

Xander nodded carefully. “It never really went away,
but knocking my head
on the ground didn’t help any.”

Spike added Riley to his kill list. “Do you want me
to fetch you some more
aspirin?”

“I’m already over the limit for today,” Xander
admitted. “I don’t want to
push my luck by taking any more.”

Knowing that he’d probably be refused, Spike still had
to make the offer.
“Any time you want to try something better than
aspirin, you let me know.”

Xander was quiet for several moments. He drew in a
long breath. “I think
I’m going to have to take you up on that,” he said
quietly.

Spike licked his lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Nothing else is going to help and if I don’t
get rid of this pain
I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything
else. I’ve still got a
list of bad guys in my head and I can’t just sit this
out.”

Well, actually he could and Spike would prefer it if
he did. He didn’t like
seeing Xander risk his life, but he knew better than
to try to keep him out
of things. “All right.” He moved closer to Xander,
sitting half-turned so
he could face him. He waited until Xander turned to
face him, then tried
out a reassuring smile. “Where do you want to do
this?”

Xander blinked, looking a little bemused. “Right here
on the couch.”

Spike grinned. “I didn’t mean that. Of course on the
couch. Where do you
want me to cut myself so you can drink?”

Licking his lips, Xander shook his head. “I don’t
know. Wherever is
easiest for you, I guess. Somewhere that it won’t
hurt you.”

Resisting the urge to turn to mush, Spike shrugged out
of his duster and
rolled up one of his sleeves. “I think the wrist will
work best,” he
murmured, pulling out one of his knives. He’d prefer
giving Xander his
blood in several different ways, but this way was the
least likely to
frighten him off. Knowing the other man’s gaze was
pinned on him, he
carefully cut a short line across his wrist, slicing
deep to guarantee blood
flow. He raised his wrist, extending his hand toward
Xander.

Xander’s hand shook a little as he reached out to
support Spike’s wrist. He
glanced up to meet Spike’s gaze. At Spike’s
encouraging nod, he bent his
head and pressed his mouth to the bleeding wound.

Spike pressed his lips tightly together to stifle the
pleased moan that
threaten to break free. Soft lips feathered gently
over his skin, parting
to draw in the crimson rivulets. A pause as Xander
grew accustomed to what
he was doing, and then his lips were pressed tighter
against Spike’s skin as
he sucked at the wound. Spike shifted minutely,
desire rising in him at the
sensation. He knew that Xander wouldn’t be able to
take enough blood to
hurt himself; he’d crafted the wound carefully,
knowing that it would close
before Xander drank too much. He felt his skin begin
to knit and got ready
to withdraw his wrist. Xander evidently realized that
the cut was healing
because he stopped sucking at it. A warm tongue swept
across Spike’s skin
in soothing, cleansing strokes, then Xander sat back,
letting go of Spike’s
arm.

Spike controlled his reactions carefully, making sure
to nonchalantly roll
his sleeve back down. He didn’t want to make a big
deal out of this and
freak Xander out. He didn’t want this to be the last
time Xander let him
offer this.

It only took one look at Xander to send all that
control went out the
window. Xander’s eyes were wide and wondering and his
cheeks were flushed.
He stared at Spike with parted lips, a small smear of
blood at the corner of
his mouth.

Before Spike realized that he wanted to, he was
already doing it: he leaned
forward and licked away the smear, erasing it with a
few delicate laps of
his tongue. He leaned back a little and searched
Xander’s face. The other
man still looked wondering, but there was no scent of
fear on him. Not
wanting to push Xander too hard but unable to resist,
he moved even closer
to Xander, sliding his arm around Xander’s waist to
pull the dark-eyed man
to him. Construction-nurtured hardness filled Spike’s
arms, wonderfully
solid to touch. He pressed his lips to Xander’s in a
gentle kiss, once,
twice, and then again in a longer caress. He swept
his tongue out across
Xander’s lower lip, begging for entrance. He could
taste Xander and blood
and he wanted more. With a muffled sound of need
Xander acquiesced, parting
his lips and inviting Spike inside. Spike pulled
Xander even closer,
eagerly tasting his mouth for the first time. The
essence of Xander was
stronger, as was the lingering taste of blood. His
senses were filled with
warmth and life and Xander and blood...and something
else. Spike probed
more intently, not wanting the kiss to end. That
element of something else
intruded on his awareness, reminding him not of a
taste, but instead of a
scent...

With a growl, he pulled away from the kiss. “Graham.”
He was tasting
Graham.

Xander flinched away, pulling out of his embrace to
huddle in on himself on
the other end of the couch. He wrapped his arms
around himself and stared
at the floor, his breath shaky, shuddering.

Spike shoved down the possessive anger that was
threatening to take over.
He didn’t want to scare Xander. It wasn’t Xander’s
fault that Graham had
kissed him. It was Spike’s fault for not killing the
soldier as soon as he
realized where he interests lay. He could deal with
Graham later. Right
then he had to fix the mistake he’d made.

He scooted closer to Xander and reached out to him
once more. The
dark-haired man resisted, but Spike murmured
reassurances and with insistent
pressure drew Xander back into his embrace. He raised
a hand to brush an
unruly lock of hair off Xander’s brow. “How’s your
head?” he asked quietly.

“Better,” Xander said, eyes widening as he realized
it. “The pain’s gone.”
He started to grin, then the pleasure of the relief
was gone as he
remembered what had just happened. “Spike, I’m sorry.
I-”

Spike stroked his fingers through Xander’s hair,
quieting him with the slow
repetition. “You don’t have anything to apologize
for, luv. You didn’t do
anything wrong.” After all, Xander hadn’t known he
belonged to Spike.
Graham on the other hand...but that was something to
think about later.
Right now he had to get Xander calmed down. He could
see the first hints of
fear in his brown eyes and knew he was the one who put
it there. It wasn’t
Xander’s fault two men were throwing themselves at
him.

It was Graham’s fault.

Pushing his jealousy aside once more, Spike smiled at
Xander. “It’s not
your fault I couldn’t help myself any longer and had
to kiss you, now is
it?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Xander agreed slowly. “And I
don’t understand the
sudden urge to kiss me.”

“Not sudden, really. I’ve wanted to for a while and I
didn’t want to wait
anymore.” He hoped he wasn’t going to sound like too
much of an idiot. “I
don’t want to push you into anything. I just wanted
you to know I’m here.
All right?”

Xander nodded. “I think so.” The fear was gone from
his eyes, but he still
looked bemused.

Spike moved in slowly, making his intentions blatantly
obvious and giving
Xander plenty of time to protest. When Xander relaxed
a little bit more
into his arms, Spike took it as permission and once
again claimed Xander’s
mouth in a kiss. Xander’s hesitant cooperation this
time sent a shiver of
delight through him as a warm tongue curled around his
own. He explored the
dark-haired man’s mouth leisurely, making sure that
not only was Xander
breathless by the time he finished, but also that
every trace of Graham had
been eradicated. Barely satisfied, he pressed a kiss
to the corner of
Xander’s mouth and another just in front of his ear.
Still holding Xander’s
warmth close, he quietly asked, “Isn’t it about time
you headed to bed?”

Xander’s heart rate sped up immediately and he tensed
in Spike’s arms.
“Um,” he said in a nervous tone. “Um, I...”

“Alone,” Spike said with a smile. “Go to bed and
sleep, luv. I’ll talk to
you tomorrow.” He didn’t want to do it, but he
released Xander and sat
back.

Xander stood up slowly. “So, um, goodnight?”

“Night, Xander.” Spike watched as Xander disappeared
into his bedroom. He
wasn’t going to make any declarations of love. He’d
confused Xander enough
for one night without dropping something like that on
him. He stayed on the
couch and closed his eyes, reliving the experience:
the way it had felt to
feel Xander’s body against his own, the sweetness of
his taste and his
participation.

When there had been no sound of movement from Xander’s
room for almost an
hour, Spike rose up from the couch and walked over,
silently opening the
door and slipping inside. He stood beside the bed and
stared down at the
sleeping man, watching the way his chest rose and feel
slowly, envying the
pillow that he cradled in one arm. He was acting like
a pathetic sap, but
he accepted it. He’d long ago recognized that he was
Love’s Bitch and he
never claimed Love was a gentle master. He had fallen
hard for Xander and
if turning soft in some ways was the price he had to
pay for being in love,
then so be it.

He backed out of the room slowly, reluctant to leave
but unwilling to
disturb Xander. He considered going back out on the
streets for the rest of
the night, but decided to stay in and watch television
instead. He half-way
convinced himself that he was doing it because he
wanted to and not out of
an insane urge to protect Xander.

As he flipped from one infomercial to the next, he
grew less and less able
to ignore something that was disturbing him. His
first reaction to finding
out that Graham had kissed Xander was rage. He was
fine with that; he was
accustomed to jealous anger. His second reaction,
though, was curiosity
mixed with greed. He hadn’t wanted there to be
anything of Graham’s
presence left on Xander, but he’d wanted to experience
that presence for
himself and as he’d tried to remove it he’d found
himself wanting more.

That wasn’t right. He hated Graham for trying to take
his Xander. He was
willing to admit that he found the soldier attractive.
He’d caught sight of
Graham while imprisoned by the Initiative and
remembered him because of his
strong, handsome features and muscular physique.
Hell, Graham had played
the starring role in Spike’s ‘masturbate for the
camera’ bid to relieve
boredom while waiting for a chance to escape.

Just because he thought the Xander-stealing bastard
was attractive was no
reason for him to be greedy for another taste. There
was no reason for him
to want to know what pure Graham tasted like, either.
Disturbed by the
speculations he couldn’t stop his brain from mulling
over, Spike tried to go
on watching television. He stared steadily at the
screen, but he was
distracted by the memory of measuring blue eyes and a
muscled body in
uniform.

*****