“Why so quiet?”

Spike shrugged.  Xander had thought the evening went well but now he wasn’t so sure.  These silences from Spike usually led to somewhere Xander didn’t want to go, and if he said he was looking forward to getting home he’d be lying.

“Want to go to the copse?”

Shake of the head.  The Merc sat at the intersection while Xander considered: short route, long route.  Short route.  Get it over with, whatever it was on this particular occasion.

“Talk to me.”

“About?”

“Umm…you going back to your portraits?  Beth said she knew a couple of people…”

“No,” Spike answered brusquely.

“Oh.  Okay.  It’s a pity.  You’re so good.”

“I thought those women made you jealous.”

“Yeah,” Xander admitted with embarrassment.  “But you told me you weren’t interested in them.”

“Maybe I lied.”

Xander knew this was to hurt, to pick a fight, and he refused to go there.  But he felt it, couldn’t help but feel it, like he’d swallowed a burning coal.  Tired of rolling over he decided that two could play.  He stopped the Merc at the side of the deserted country road and waited until Spike took a curious glance in his direction.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Spike, get out.”

Spike’s surprise flickered in the direction of alarm.

“No,” he said, forced lightly.

“Get out.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Anger and humiliation flickered over the pale features.

“You know why.”

“What?  It’s too dark?  Too scary?  As scary as me mistakenly switching off the hall light when we go to bed?  That kind of too dark?”

“Fuck you.”

“And we really don’t want to go there, do we?”

Spike shot a vicious look at Xander, who simply chose not to see it, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared into the night.  The impasse grew, neither immediately willing to aggravate the aggravation, or make a conciliatory gesture.

Spike did his own share of staring into the night, wishing he had the courage to leave the car, wanting to prove to both Xander and himself that he could face his fears, but he was trapped and he knew it.  A few more minutes and he accepted defeat, let himself relax with a soft laugh.

“I have to respect this,” he conceded with a smile.  “You can be such a bastard, and a clever bastard too.”

“That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“I know it isn’t.”  Spike gave Xander’s thigh a gentle stroke.  “Drive.  Let’s go home.”

Allowing himself to be distracted by the touch, Xander started the car and drove.

…

Spike sat on the counter and watched Xander boiling water in a dented pan on the stove, ready to make coffee in a chipped mug.  He still wasn’t sure if he felt genuinely bad about the material damage he’d done, but he was certain it hadn’t been worth the effort if the intention was to make himself feel better in some way.  Xander was still being infuriatingly brave and understanding and reasonable about it, and the temptation to dismantle that façade was irresistible to Spike: he had a deep need to tear it open, take a good look at the raw emotions that lay beneath, rake his claws through them until Xander was…  Honest.  He wanted rage from his human, beatings and kickings, pure, bloody violence; the security of being undisputedly put in his place.

Xander filled the new mug with blood, turned to where the microwave used to sit and sighed.  He’d forgotten again.

“You want this heated?”  He picked up the pan he’d just finished with, shaking the last drops of water into the sink.  “I don't mind...”

“Cold will do.”  Xander handed the unappetising meal over.  “Although I do know where I can get it hot and fresh.  If you love me enough.”

Xander said nothing but the ‘fuck off’ in his look was quite articulate.  He took a sip of coffee, pulled a face, began vainly trying to find some sugar.

“Have to go grocery shopping tomorrow.  I want to look at some colours too, paint for the living room, need to get that done as soon as possible.  You want—  Stupid question, you’re not interested.  Think I’ll give Jake a call in the morning, see if he wants to…”

“Yeah, that’d be right,” Spike muttered.  “You and your little…”

Before Spike could finish, Xander’s finger was in his face.

“You don’t say a fucking word against him!” he threatened.  “Me, that’s one thing, but you leave my friends out of this.”

Spike went slightly boss-eyed as he focused on the finger.

“If you don’t take that away I’ll bite it off.”

Spinning away, Xander paced to the far side of the room.

“Want to tell me what pissed you off tonight?  Nice meal, home country beer, good movie: comfortable, hassle-free evening and somehow it turns you into a total fucking ass!”  Spike’s mug crashed into the wall a few feet from Xander, spattering him with blood and fragments of china.  “Fucking hell, Spike!”

The vampire slid from his place on the counter and began a slow stalk toward Xander.  Fury simmered beneath the surface of the vampire’s eyes.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me.  You.”

“What have I done now?” Xander demanded in exasperation.

“You…  Tonight…”  Xander let himself be backed into the wall.  “Why do you have to look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Tonight…”

“Like what?” Xander repeated.

“The way people looked at you.  The way you looked at them.”

“The way I…?  Oh, no.  No looking, Spike.”

“You invite admiration.  Why can’t you be…ugly?”

“Spike…  Maybe not out-and-out ugly but I’m nothing special and I didn’t do anything special tonight,” Xander told him, totally bemused.  “Anytime…  If I make an effort it’s because I want to look nice for you.  Because I don’t want to embarrass you like I used to when we went out.  Remember?  The clothes, the hair?  The…me.  Then, I was ugly.”

“You were never…!”  Spike was suddenly angry for a whole new reason.  His words became considered, measured.  “You have always been beautiful.  Compelling.  Unique.”

“Unique.  That’s just another word for freaky, huh?”

“Freaky would be good.  Freaky would stop people looking at what they can’t have, what they’ll never have.”

Quickly to the refrigerator and Spike was pulling out a bottle, holding it by the neck and smashing the body on the nearest surface.  He approached Xander with the jagged remains as the young man looked on in big-eyed disbelief.

“What…what…?  Spike…”

“It’s you I want, the you inside.  Make the outside hard to look at, no-one’ll try to take you away.”

“What is this?  Nothing says ‘I love you’ like facial mutilation?”

“I do love you.  I’m going to lose you because I’m worthless, lose you because I can’t be what you need, unless no-one else…”

The ‘Oh, no, he wouldn’t’ disintegrated in favour of a healthy dose of ‘Oh, yes, he would’.  Xander broke out of his daze, turning and running into the hallway despite knowing Spike would catch him in seconds.  A tug on the back of his collar and he jerked to a halt, felt himself being swung around to face the vampire, ready to scream at the sensation of broken glass being thrust into his face.

No glass.  Just Spike.  Spike staring at him and looking scared and angry and concerned all at once and how was that possible?

“How can you forgive me for all of this?” Spike demanded in a troubled voice.

“I...  Time, gimme time,” Xander told him, tearful now, beginning to lose the composure that had seen him battle mindlessly through the week, through today.  Funny how the thought of a face-full of glass could do that.

“Not an unconditional pardon, then?”

Xander struggled to get away but Spike held him firmly, grasping the tops of his arms until they throbbed painfully.

“You can’t keep doing this to me, you can’t…  I’m not strong enough.”

“For what?” Spike demanded.

“It hurts.”  Xander barely managed the words.

“What is it?  Let it go, let me know.  What can’t you forgive me for?”  Xander didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to give Spike more ammunition; Spike was so close, now gripping handfuls of hair to keep Xander looking at him.  “What can’t you forgive me for?”

“You cut me,” Xander gasped, breathless with anguish.  “You cut me.  How can I trust you if you…”  Spike snatched Xander to him, holding the shaking form against a body that ached with shame and regret.  “It’s so bad,” Xander choked out, “I promised you I could forgive you anything but…”

“You feel guilty for that?  Xander, no.  Hate me for it, hate me, I deserve it.  Don’t even try to forgive me, not this time.”

“You cut me,” Xander whispered again.  And again.  As Spike offered inadequate comfort and confronted what an absolute piece of shit he was: of all the things he could have done to hurt Xander, the cutting had been beyond cruel.  This was the man he loved, cherished, idolized.  If he could be this sadistic to Xander there was only one course of action left open to him.

“I have to go away, Xander.”

Xander’s arms crept around Spike, hands clenching in his clothes.

“No.  Please.  Not that.  Please.”

As gently as he could, Spike prised Xander from him, led the man back to the kitchen, sat him on the counter and handed him his lukewarm coffee.

“Stay here.  Half-an-hour.  Half-an-hour before you walk out of this room.  Promise me.”

“No.”

“Promise me.  Because you know I’m right.  Because you love me.  Trust me.  Trust me one last time.  Promise.”

Xander’s head dropped; his words were faint and broken.

“I promise.”

…

Half-an-hour.  Xander sat in silence that was disrupted only by the sound of his coarse breaths as he tried to be calm, as he tried to trust Spike enough to let him go.  He’d heard nothing since the vampire had kissed him and left the kitchen, but that was nothing new: when he wanted to, Spike could walk a step behind Xander and be undetectable.

Half-an-hour.  Xander looked at his watch, checked to see if it had stopped, wondered why he was being so ridiculously obedient in these circumstances.  He wondered, but he didn’t scrutinise.  The whole damn situation didn’t bear much intense scrutiny.

Half-an-hour.  The house was warm, always warm for Spike.  So why did Xander feel cold?  Why did he feel so cold?

Half-an-hour.  Spike’s gone.  He has to be gone.  I let him go because I love him.  Or was that because he loves me?  Something about trust.  Trust…  He cut me.  Wanna face that, ready to face that?  No.  That’s what I thought.  Coward.  He has to be gone now.  I trust him and he’s gone.  Is this over?  Are we over?  Do I love him enough to let him go?  No.  Yes.  No.  Coward.  Coward.

Coward or not, it took all of Xander’s courage to walk from the kitchen when those seemingly unending thirty minutes had passed.  Knowing for certain that Spike had gone, it was a shock to see him sitting at the foot of the stairs, tears pouring down his face.  Xander’s heart flipped dramatically, and he took a few cautious steps in Spike’s direction, then everything sped up: as Spike stood, opening his arms to receive Xander, his partner rushed into them.  The embrace was hard, the emotions were harder.

“Please, Spike.  Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you, I’m just leaving.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“You’re not safe with me at the moment.  Think I’ll risk you?”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“You let me hurt you.  Physically, emotionally, you’ll let me break you into pieces and grind you into dust.”  Spike leant back, slid his hands over Xander’s neck to rest on his shoulders.  “That isn’t what I want, is it?  I want to get past this chip business and have you to come home to.  Have you perfect.  Unscarred.  Unbroken.  How can I come back to someone I’ve brutalised?  Maimed.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I?  You don’t know what I’m capable of.  Even I don’t know, and that scares me.  If this thing in my head finally sends me insane it’s not going to happen around you, all right?”  More hugs.  “I have to go.”

“Please, Spike…”

“I don’t trust myself, Xander.  What if I…I turn you?  You couldn’t forgive that.  Listen to me.  I – don’t – trust - myself.”

“What happens to me if you don’t come back?”

“I will come back.  I promise.”  Spike kissed Xander gently, leant their brows together.  “I.  Love.  You.  I love you, Xander.  My darling Xander.  I love you.  And I will come back.”

It was a long time before either of them moved, but one moment Xander was still and holding, the next he was frenzied and tearing his way into Spike’s clothes.  Spike caught hold of his wrists and held him away, feeling the pressure as Xander leant heavily in.

“One more night, Spike.  Give me that.”

“How many times do I have to say…”

“I don’t care!  I don’t care if it’s dangerous, I want you, I’m going to lose you, I deserve tonight.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“I don’t believe you!” Xander shouted, pulling away now.

“If you don’t believe me…  Will it be a relief when it’s over?”

Xander turned back, speechless, refusing to think about that in case it was true, wishing he had the words, always missing the right words.  Spike came to him, touched his face so adoringly that Xander found himself fighting tears yet again.  His hands slowly moved to Spike’s coat, clumsily pushing it from the vampire’s shoulders, carrying on their fumbling progress to undo the last couple of buttons of the shirt that soon joined the duster on the floor.

“Tonight,” Xander pleaded.

Spike took the shaking hands and kissed them.

“Tonight.”  He nimbly evaded Xander’s lunging embrace.  “But you promise me something?  If you start to get worried, you shout for William, you scream, scream for William.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?  You’ll be safe with him.”

“I…”  Xander flushed with shame, found himself in Spike’s arms.

“You want him.  I know that.”

“I can’t explain it.  I mean, I can…but I can’t.”

“Me but safe, you used to say.”

“It’s…”  Xander floundered, shook his head.

Spike lifted Xander’s head with a finger under the chin, smiling kindly as he met the troubled brown eyes.  One equally kind but intensely meant kiss.

“We’ll go to bed.  If I scare you, call for William.  If you have him…  It’ll be nothing more than I deserve.”

“You won’t scare me,” Xander insisted, conviction strengthened by Spike’s willingness to cede his body to William: surely he’d never be so agreeable if there was a chance it would happen?

“I won’t scare you?”  Xander shook his head, face grimly determined.  “Then you’re a braver man than me.”

Upstairs, and Spike’s reticence was an aphrodisiac for Xander, so rarely did he get the chance to seduce the vampire; he used the feeling to tease himself, taking his time over peeling the remaining clothes from the magnificent body, using glancing touches over the silky flesh to torment himself.  When Spike finally reciprocated, Xander caught the musky scent of his own lust and backed off.

“I…umm…  Think I’ll shower.”

“You smell good.  More than good.  I prefer you to smell like you.”

“You said…”

“Forget what I said.”

“Offensive is kinda hard to let go,” Xander said quietly, managing to embarrass himself.

The vampire blitz followed, and within seconds Xander found himself naked and sprawled on the bed with an amorous lover snuffling his way over his body.

“You smell of love…and sex…and me…and life…and promise…and…”

“What does promise smell like?”

Spike dragged his hands over Xander’s torso several times before cupping his hands over Xander’s lower face.

“Breathe in.  Nose and mouth, use your mouth to taste the scent.  Try and draw the air over your palate.”

Xander did as he was told and knew that without Spike he’d be alone for the remainder of his life because how could you go from this to the average human?  He shook his head and Spike raised his hands.

“I can smell aftershave and that’s it.”

Diving forward, Spike buried his face in Xander’s neck.

“Promise.  Trust.  Fear.  Me, more me, you smell of me, Xander, and it’s amazing, exciting.  Love and me.  Touch my cock.”

Spike gave Xander a little access space and a warm hand wormed between them and curled lovingly around the vampire’s sturdy erection, evoking a breathy moan that ghosted over Xander’s ear and initiated a rash of goose bumps that crept over Xander’s entire body.  Xander heard and felt teeth drag over the diamond stud as a cool mouth closed around a soft lobe and gently chewed.

“What…what else?” Xander gasped through the sensations.

“Love.  Me.  Knowledge.  Sorrow.  Past.  Hope.  Sex, always sex; you’re so desirable, hope you know, you believe.”  Spike’s hand joined Xander’s and with a shift of hips they were able to grasp both cocks at once, slowly fucking the grip in opposing rhythms.

It was like their first time: gentle kisses masking simmering passion, leisurely build-up to climax, the sense of having all the time in the world for one another.  Only now, time seemed to be running out.  They came together easily, their minds and bodies attuned, each responding to the other’s pleasure and so aroused that, ultimately, the only additional stimulation they needed was a look.

They lay together in silence for a while, post-orgasmic contentment marred by too many troublesome thoughts, heightened awareness of the fragility of their situation.

“Spike?”

“Mmm?”

“Would you have done it?”

“Done what?”

“The bottle.”

Spike was up and showering Xander’s face with kisses.

“Never.  I love this face, I’d never…  Never.”

“’Cause…”  In a split second Spike knew that he had successfully scraped away the façade of coping; he’d hit raw emotion and it was too late to stop Xander speaking of it.  “I’m pretty scared of you right now…”

“No, love.”

“…but I don’t believe you can help this…this…whatever it is you’re going through.”

“I’m going to put it right.”

“Can you?”

“I’ll find a way.  For us.”

Xander responded to the light kisses with a renewed burst of passion, desperate to convince himself that he still had faith in Spike, regardless of the constant erosion of his trust by Spike's behaviour over the last week, determined to confront and conquer the fear that threatened to undermine their last scraps of happiness.

“Come back, Spike,” Xander managed to fit between kisses.  “Please come back.”

Spike eased him away with some difficulty.

“Xander…  Xander.  Don’t ask me again.  Don’t say it.  You have to be strong.”

“I can’t, Spike, I don’t have it left in me.  I’m not strong.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Scared.”

“Xander…”  Xander silenced him with a determined kiss, covering Spike’s body with his own and recommencing the familiar grind, wanting to be mindless with lust rather than dread.  “Xander!” Spike barked as he ripped his mouth free.

“Please, let me…”

“I need you to prove something to me.”  Xander stopped his onslaught and met Spike’s gaze.  Waited.  “I think you’re often at your best when you’re at your worst.  Prove it.”

More waiting, this time Spike, anticipating Xander’s response and hoping his judgement was sound for once.  The kisses resumed, Xander working his way down Spike’s neck, onto his chest, lips teasing nipples that stiffened at the touch.

“Xander…”

“I won’t let you down,” Xander promised, soft breaths against tingling skin.

Spike groaned with relief and surrendered himself, mentally following Xander’s progress along his body, groaning again as Xander began to lick away the evidence of their previous coupling.

“Just come here and hold me.  I don’t want to get too worked up; don’t trust myself.”

Xander’s mouth descended on Spike’s stiff cock, sucking hard and forcing the vampire into a pattern of shuddering breaths, effectively wiping his mind of what he didn’t want when what he did want was being doggedly pursued by a human who needed to taste before the opportunity was snatched away from him for who knows how long.  Spike’s hands buried themselves in Xander’s hair, clenching into fists and causing a pained grunt but still not deflecting the human from his purpose.

Seconds after Spike blasted his climax into Xander’s persuasive mouth, he hazily felt cool, slicked fingers opening him up, swiftly followed by the solid heat that was Xander’s erection.  Despite his reservations, Spike bucked into the sensation, encouraging Xander’s long, deliberate strokes that seemed to touch every fragment of the vampire’s physical and emotional being.  It was, as ever, overwhelming, and Spike could not suppress his worries.

“You have to…”

“Don’t stop me,” Xander gasped.

“It’s not safe,” Spike moaned, grinding up onto the thick flesh and hoping that Xander would stubbornly refuse to be talked out of this.

“I know.  I’m prepared to…  Oh, God, just tell me you want me.”

Spike grasped the headboard and used the leverage to spectacularly arch his body until his feet were the only part of him touching the mattress, lifting Xander bodily from the bed and forcing him even deeper inside.

“Want.  You.”

Xander bent his legs and slid his knees under Spike, and as the vampire released his grip he found himself pulled onto Xander’s lap, his lover gazing at him with such carnal adoration that he almost came again on the spot.  Nails scratched up and down, buried in his back, his buttocks, making him squirm with delight as he began a slow rise and fast fall, meeting Xander’s stabbing thrusts.

Eventually the touches became a hold and tightened, and Spike was brought to a standstill as Xander panted and tried to control himself, wanting to make this encounter last as long as possible.

“Okay?” he asked Spike.

“Want you,” Spike whispered as he wrapped his arms around Xander’s neck and pulled him into a long, loving kiss.

Once he’d finished running his hands over every accessible inch of flesh, Xander held Spike to him and tipped them over, moving gently now and kissing in kind, building memories, trying to enhance the sensory image he retained of his lover so he’d have the most lifelike something to hang onto during their separation.  Rolling his hips to persuade that little creak of satisfaction from Spike's throat, a sound that was almost not there, but always sent a thrill through Xander because it meant he was getting it right, making Spike feel good, keeping Spike wanting him.  He found the perfect angle automatically now, and began a light grind over and over the hot spot until Spike was breathing in staggered gasps and clutching at his back, shoulders, arms, waist, hips, anywhere that he could grab and tug at as if he were terrified Xander would desert him.

“Want you,” Spike somehow managed to force from his throat.

“Want you back.  Want you so much.  Forever,” Xander vowed as he picked up the pace, feeling the vampire’s subsonic growl rumble through their bodies, feeling nails break the skin on his back.  “I claim you…”  Spike’s eyes sprang open and focused hungrily on Xander’s.  “I claim you,” Xander reiterated, trying his best to remember the words from the first claiming.  “I love you.  You’re mine.  Forever.  No-one else has ever touched you and you’re pure.  I claim you and you’re mine.”

“Yes,” Spike agreed, winding arms and legs around Xander, keeping him close as he offered the mark for renewal.  “Yes,” he cried hoarsely as Xander sank his teeth into the flesh without a second’s hesitation.  The grip tightened reflexively as he came, almost stilling Xander but persuading his orgasm from him with spasming inner muscles and the effects of his blood.  Xander jerked against the restraint as he emptied himself into the vampire, welcomed the hold as he finally collapsed, drained in every way.

“I claim you,” Xander murmured, just this side of sleep.

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“Yes.”

“Please come back.”

“Don’t, love,” came the sad reply.

“Please come back.”

…

Spike chose not to sleep.  No sleep: no nightmares.  No nightmares: safer Xander.  Safer Xander: all that mattered.

Xander didn’t move.  He remained sprawled over Spike as he slept, lips still touching the healing mark, cock still buried in the vampire’s body.  Spike didn’t move.  Careful not to disturb or dislodge his lover, he made the most of this togetherness, in full possession of the knowledge that it wasn’t going to last beyond the next few hours.  Stay.  Go.  The choice was his and he had made it, not to be swayed by Xander’s pleas or fears or love.

He called William to the surface for company.  When Xander had been hurt, William had shared the hellish scenario he had created around Spike’s certainty regarding their human’s demise.  Now Spike let William draw him into something more heavenly: the vision of a future where there was no chip, no terror, no chance of a demented demon harming the one person that made existence bearable.  A future that promised torture and death for those who dared to raise a finger against his lover.  An affectionate, bloody fantasy that William offered with the deep understanding of one who shared and suffered.

William gave Spike calm.  He gave him peace.  He gave him hope.

Repossession 71       Repossession Index       Repossession Notes

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