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Part 98

 

 

 

Repossession, Xander considered.  Repossession.

He thought.  He drew a blank.  He drew several blanks, in fact, as if his mind couldn’t quite find his way around that entry in his mental dictionary.

Repossession.

Okay, he now knew more about his supposed illness, madness, weirdness, whatever, and it hadn’t freaked him out as much as Spike obviously thought it would, possibly because Spike had omitted what had to be huge, hopefully irrelevant chunks of information about Xander’s wandering mind, and details of where it had wandered to.  But Xander had come out of the conversation more impressed with his partner than the vampire evidently felt appropriate.  Although Spike had played down what Xander thought of as the important stuff – the kindness, patience, love – and chastised himself over moments that allegedly lacked the same qualities, Spike had tried everything he knew to get Xander to respond, human methods or vampire, and Xander loved him for every single one.  He was sorry that he’d missed the long, often one-sided conversations he and Spike had shared during that time, sorrier still that Spike had felt desperate enough to attempt a scent claim when all else failed.  That type of non-reciprocated act wasn’t his Spike’s style, and Spike had confessed his actions with remorse and shame.  Xander objected to nothing more than Spike’s tone of self-loathing.

“If you feel bad about this, it means I have to go back to feeling bad over William.”

“You mustn’t feel bad about William.”

“Then you can’t feel bad about how you tried to bring me back.  Whatever you did.”

They’d gone round and round in circles, but Xander hoped his reassurances had eventually worked.  They’d seemed to.  Spike’s stance had softened, and he’d thought, if not shared.

Despite what he’d been told, Xander didn’t understand it much, or at all, but there was one thing he longed to understand above all others.

Repossession.

With a sigh he shook his head and turned back to the far more satisfactory task at hand.  Albeit satisfactory in an entirely frustrating way.  He picked out a few notes on the piano keyboard, looking for…  Well, if he knew he wouldn’t be looking, he’d be finding, and then there’d be the possibility that this song would be finished in his lifetime.  The few words he’d managed to string together were mundane, if heartfelt, but with the right melody there was a chance Spike wouldn’t have to suffer too much when he collected what he’d asked for.  Demanded.  Xander smiled to himself at the thought of William the Bloody getting all antsy because his song had been withheld from him.

The smile softened as he thought again about the night, the hours they’d spent talking, trying to bring some end to his fears about losing Spike.  Just accepting that they weren’t necessarily under Xander’s immediate control had helped, even if the thought of outside, or possibly inside, influence had scared him a little.  Today those worries were, if not completely gone, in such a far-flung part of his psyche as to be irrelevant, and he was back to trusting Spike implicitly, even knowing that the vampire was keeping things from him.  Maybe Xander couldn’t figure out repossession, but he knew about trust, and a vital component of trust was…trust.  Yep, made perfect sense to him.

He would find his way back to the recent state of happiness he’d been wallowing in and…

“Hello, lovely.”

“Hey, Spike.  I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Sort of,” Spike said as he came and perched alongside his partner on the piano stool.  “I wanted to wake up,” he explained, “to be with you.”

Xander beamed and leant over for a kiss.

“I’m good today.  Really good.”

Spike slipped an arm around his back and closed the fraction of space between them, reciprocating with a far more demanding kiss and leaving Xander in a momentary daze when his attention turned to the notebook on the piano.

“My song?”

“Uh…yeah.  Song, yeah.”

“How is it?”

“Crap.”

“Well, we agreed crap was fine.”

Xander laughed at that.

“Yes, I guess we did.”

Spike picked up the notebook, squinted, sighed, went off to look for his glasses, returned, put the glasses on, picked up the notebook once again.

“Okay…  ‘The clever words have all been said, the property of wiser men’,” Spike read aloud, “‘I doubt you ever loved me for my mind’.”  Spike turned a cross look on his human.  Xander.  You don’t write a love song and start by saying I think you’re stupid.”

“I didn’t.  I started by saying that I can’t find the words to express how much I feel for you, but I know you won’t object to that.”

Spike looked at the words again, then at Xander, then at the words, then at Xander.

“I may have loved you for your mind.”  Xander smiled and got himself another kiss.  “What’s all this scrubbed out?”

“That was the even crapper part.  Gone now.  I’ll think of something eventually to put in there.”

Xander self-consciously played the tune for the next couple of lines, singing unsurely…

“Some may have loved you well,
But I know I love you better…”

“Well, the second bit’s true,” Spike muttered, and this time he received a kiss.

Relaxing slightly, Xander played and sang:

“You live the beat that drives my body,
And I swear I see your soul.
Take this heart, it’s yours for life,
‘Cause in you I found my home.”
  Xander cringed at the ultra-schmaltzy turn the song had taken, too Barry Manilow even for him.  “My name is Lola, and I truly am a showgirl,” he sighed.

“Love it,” Spike murmured under his breath, ignoring Lola and concentrating on Xander’s feelings when he wrote those words.

“This is better, I like this part” Xander continued.  “It’s as honest as I can get.”

A moment’s nervous hesitation.

“Please, love.”

Xander played.

“Cut you and I bleed,
Tear you and I scar.”
  A few lyric-less bars.  “The simple words of a simple man,
And they tell a simple truth:
Of an immortal love,
In a mortal life,
My eternity with you.”

 

Xander found himself in the midst of a mighty hug, Spike squeezing the air out of him.

“Spike,” he squeaked breathlessly, and Spike eased his grip.

“Sorry.  Just…”

“It’s so bad you want to kill me?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Spike joked in a voice straining with emotion.  He buried his face in Xander’s neck and let himself be fussed over.

“You know it would be better if we wrote something together.  You were the poet after all, and…”  Spike’s snort of laughter against his neck distracted Xander, and there was the automatic twist of head as he unconsciously offered himself.  It didn’t go unnoticed, and Spike nipped the skin with blunt teeth.  At Xander’s appreciative groan Spike fought back the desire to use his fangs, knowing he had to wait for Xander to initiate anything that intimate.  And, thankfully…  “God, Spike, I want you.  Can we go back to—”

A knock at the front door followed by a wall of Hamish-noise cut into their growing excitement.

“Who?” Spike demanded.

“D’know.”

“I’ll see ‘em off.”

“Do that.”

 

Spike called Hamish away from the door and opened it up, horny spirits sinking when he saw who it was: no seeing this guy off.

“Xander,” he called as he stood back to allow entry.  “Detective Cawley.”

“Hi, Spike, how are you?” the detective asked as he walked into the hallway, head swivelling as he took in the changes to the decoration.

“You’re the detective.  Figure out what you interrupted and you’ll know exactly how I am.”

Cawley smiled at Spike, transferring that to Xander as he appeared and shook hands before ushering the man into the living room.  Xander exchanged an anxious look with Spike and the vampire joined him on the sofa.

“You’re looking well, Mr Harris.”

“Yeah,” Xander replied distractedly.  “This is about…?”

“Missing persons.”  Xander looked stumped.  “We believe the people we’re looking for worked on your construction sites.”

Expectations that the detective might be here with news about his attack faded fast, and Xander settled down to pay attention to what he was being asked.

“What are their names?”

Cawley took a notebook from his pocket and flicked through the pages, stopping and reading out…

Clinton Wiesner, Darren Severt, and Nelson Dreiling.”

Xander was already nodding.

“Yeah, I know those guys.  But I’m not sure I can be of any help, it’s been a while since they worked for us.”

“Can you remember exactly when they left your employment?”

“Last year sometime.  You need to ask Patrick or Jake, they’d have records.”

“The last time you saw them?”

“Would’ve been on site.  Probably…  Yeah, Preston Hill.”

“They were fired, I believe.”  Xander nodded.  “Did you fire them?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“And you haven’t seen them since they were fired?”

“No.”

“Are you quite sure?”

“No, I’d…”  It suddenly fell into place and Xander felt the colour drain from his face.  “Wait a minute.  That was…?  That was who hurt me?”  The detective remained silent; the lack of denial was answer enough.  “You knew who it was all along, and you didn’t tell me?”

“It was only a suspicion, I was never in a position to prove…”

“These guys were still around and you didn’t tell me!  I don’t fucking believe this.”  Xander rose and began to pace.  “They almost killed me and…  What then?  You hoped they’d have another shot at it and then you’d get them?”  Once again Cawley said nothing; Xander tried to calm down.  “It was them though?  You know it was them?”

Cawley paused, torn between what he should say and what he wanted to.  Wanted to won.

“Pretty sure.”

Xander collapsed into the nearest chair, dropping his face into his hands.  Spike immediately went to comfort him and was waved away in one second, had his hand clenched in a tight grip the next.

“I’m okay.  It’s – it’s the relief.  If they’re gone it’s a relief.”  Xander looked up at Cawley.  “They are gone?  This isn’t some kind of mistake?”

“All we know is that they’re missing.”  Xander took a deep breath and nodded his understanding.  “Mr Harris, I need to ask you – both of you - where you were on Tuesday the twenty-first, Wednesday the twenty- second, and Thursday the twenty-third of February.”

Another disbelieving look from Xander.

“You don’t honestly think…?  Okay, you do honestly think.”

“No, Sir, I don’t honestly think.  It’s a formality.”

 

Xander got up and went to the study, Cawley and Spike trailing behind.  Xander flicked through his diary; the pages in question were blank except for a circle around the twenty-third and a tiny, memory-jogging 1st written beneath.

“The diary at my office will have all my daytime appointments, and there’s nothing here so we would have just been home together in the evenings.  That’s usual.”

“And I’d’ve probably been home alone during the day,” Spike added.  “Beth might’ve been round, but other than that…  Alone, here.  And I’ve nothing to prove it.”

Cawley rested a finger on the circle.

“What does this mean?”

Xander turned away, upset and angry and seething with resentment.  Then Spike was there, taking him into his arms for an unreciprocated hug.  He spoke to the detective over Xander’s shoulder, calmly, coolly.

“It was…”

“Don’t!”

“Shh, love, it doesn’t matter.”

“Fucking hell,” under his breath.

“It was the first time that we’d been able to have sex properly since Xander was hurt.  So, we know exactly where we were and what we were doing although, as you might expect, there are no witnesses.  What do you want now?  List of positions?  Brand of slick?  Who got off first?”

Xander pushed himself out of Spike’s arms and rushed out of the room.  Spike met Cawley’s eyes with an accusing stare until the detective looked down to scribble a few details in his notebook.

“How would you have felt if they’d gone after him again?”

“There was no conclusive evidence…”

“But you knew.  You could have warned him.  You could have warned me or Patrick, you could have told Angel.”

“No, Sir, I couldn’t have.”

“Xander’s a good bloke and I think you know that.  How would it’ve been for you if they’d managed to finish what they started?”

“I can’t comment on that.”

Spike smiled coldly.

“No.  Course you can’t.  Now, is there anything else?”

Cawley looked about to ask another question, but decided to show a little discretion when confronted with the barely contained fury on Spike’s features.

“Nothing that can’t wait.  I’ll be talking to Mr MacDonald and Mr Buchanan.”

“I’m sure they’ll be delighted to deal with you.”

 

Spike led to the front door and Cawley followed, glancing in the direction of the living room where Hamish sat in the doorway, guarding Xander, muzzle quivering as he barely remained on the civilised side of a growl.

“That’s quite a dog you have there.”

“Hamish?  He’s all noise,” Spike lied, letting a hint of affection creep into his tone as he discussed the wolfhound.  “But he looks the part.  You do what you can to feel safe, eh?”

Cawley seemed suitably chastened.

“I know it’s been a shock but hopefully Mr Harris will feel a little easier in himself now.  Unofficially…  These men have been in trouble before and it looks like whoever they turned on last was more than they could handle.”

“Whatever.  If they are dead I just hope it was a long and painful process.”

“Yeah.  I’m just glad these pieces of shit are off the street.”

Spike gave a brief nod of agreement before begrudgingly shaking the detective’s outstretched hand and showing him out.

 

Xander couldn’t quite pin down how he felt.  Working his way through half a tumbler of Spike’s whiskey hadn’t made a dent in his wildly swinging emotions, and all he wanted now was Spike to come and confirm what he really wanted to be sure of.  That he was safe.  That the three men who had hurt him were never going to be waiting around the next corner.  It wasn’t until this precise moment that he realised just how wary he’d been during the last months, not knowing who had hated him enough to kill him.  Always on his guard when he attended a site, suspicious of people he used to share a few amiable words with, worrying about where he left the car and could he get back to it before someone had a chance to catch him up and throw gas over him and—  He took another mouthful of scotch and grimaced.  Over.  It was over.

He heard the front door shut and Hamish trotted away, no doubt to Spike, and there was the faintest whispering of vampire to dog before they joined him.

“All right, love?”

Xander nodded.  Then shook his head.  Offered Spike the glass and Spike took it from him, draining what was left and putting it aside.  Spike sat alongside Xander, easing him into a more comfortable position and curling up with him, enveloping as much of the man as he could manage.  Hamish lay at Xander’s feet, head up, alert.  Surrounded, Xander felt much safer.

 

“Do you remember these blokes?” Spike asked after a while.

Xander nodded.

“And I remember the day they got sacked.”

“Was it to do with you?”

“In a round about way.  I wouldn’t have thought it was enough for them to try and kill me.  They had the reputation of virtually living in a bar outside of work so maybe…  This is me clinging to the fact that maybe their judgement was shot.  Or pickled.”  Xander thought back.  “It was…  Okay.  I was on site, and I was wearing a safety harness ‘cause I’d been up at levels that were still just infra-structure; one strong gust of wind up there and you’re flying, so you have to wear the harness.”

“You always do?”

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry, I never take chances.”

Spike nodded grimly and Xander smiled and felt much better at the burst of protectiveness.

“Get on with it,” Spike demanded with his best fake scowl.

“So, I’m preoccupied with the report I’m making out and I start to walk off still wearing the harness, and this guy has to drag me back to take it off.”

“Was he one of…”

“No, he’s great.  He starts joking that tonight it’s the construction worker and tomorrow it’s the cowboy, then it’s the cop, and he’s singing YMCA with really camp actions and he was very funny, people were laughing…”

“Laughing at you?”

“At him fooling around, at what he was saying.  I was laughing, Spike, it wasn’t mean and he wasn’t taking a shot, he was just being funny.”

“So…?”

“Getting there.”

“Get there faster.”

Xander very slowly and deliberately leant over and kissed Spike’s urgency away.

“Getting there.  I’m leaving the site and these three guys stop me – yes, those three guys – and tell me what happened proves I’m getting the company a bad name, everyone’s calling it the MacFag Partnership, and they’re sick of being associated with some fucking queer who wants to play at real men’s work.”

“What did you do?”

“I couldn’t be bothered to do anything, I was fairly immune to the remarks, joking or otherwise, by then.  I walked away and left them to it.  But I was told the Site Manager had overheard and fired them on the spot.”

 

They remained in thoughtful silence for a while, before Xander said to himself…

Clinton Wiesner.  Darren Severt.  Nelson Dreiling.  Clint, Darren, and Sonny.  Wanted me dead.”

“I doubt it was that deliberate.  Sounds like they’d just rolled out of the pub, and alcohol has such a wonderful way of clearing the mind.”

“You trying to make me feel better?”

“D’know.  Is it working?”

“Is it really any better to be drunkenly hated than soberly hated?”

“I think so,” Spike said after consideration.

“And is it wrong for me not to give a fuck if they’re dead?  Is it wrong for me to hope they are and actually be glad, and to hope they burn in the very worst hell dimension for all eternity?”

“I’d say that’s perfectly natural.  Hopefully this time the feeling will last.”

And there was another thoughtful silence as Xander mulled that over.  That and other pertinent facts.

“Spike…  Do you still have the chip?”

Spike laughed softly.

“Yes.  I still have the chip.”

“So, how d’you do it?”

“Who said I did?”

“How did you do it?” Xander persisted.  “Angel?  Fan Club?  Strike a bargain with one of these demons you’ve been sent to kill?”

“There’s nothing to say it was anything to do with me.”

“Right.  And under the circumstances I guess it would be wiser for me not to know the details.”

“Circumstances?”

“Cawley.”

“Ah, yes.  That might matter.  If there were details to know.”

Xander wriggled closer.

“And, coincidentally, you were worthy about that time because…?”

“I finally believed you.”  Xander looked a question.  “You kept telling me I was always worthy.  Bit of demon-slayage for the community and it finally sank in.”

“That’s nice.  Good,” Xander smiled, not fooled for a moment.  Actively wanting this to be, in some way, Spike’s handiwork.

Spike took a hard look, running his fingers over Xander’s face and through his hair.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes and no.  Shock’s wearing off and I’m glad it’s over.  Sad that those people felt like that about me.  I’m glad it’s over.”

“I’d hate you to think I’m just a horny, insensitive demon, but any chance we can pick up where we left off?”

“Where did we leave off?”  Xander pretended to think.  “Wasn’t I singing you…”  A few second’s rearranging and Spike was draped over his lover, studying his face and looking for permission to carry on.  Xander, meantime, was having a good look of his own, and letting what he was convinced Spike had done for him sink in.  If he’d expected even a moment of inner disapproval over Spike’s actions he’d have been disappointed, because all he felt was the sense of safety he’d needed for so long, and gratitude that Spike had somehow found a way to prove his worth to himself.  He gave his lover a slow smile and whispered, “Thank you,” before welcoming the touch of Spike’s lips to his own.

Kissing, and an hour passed unnoticed, a tender reintroduction after the trauma of the past days, and Spike waited with admirable patience for Xander to demand more, his human’s touches growing more urgent, palming Spike’s erection through his jeans until the material was damp and the vampire was squirming up into his hand.

“Going to fuck me?” Spike demanded before sharing kisses that had now become quite fervent.

For the second time that day they were interrupted, this time by a teeth-jarring creak that made them both jump and Hamish leap to his feet with a thoroughly pissed off bark.

“Could so do without that right now.”

“Think the house will fall on our heads mid-shag?” Spike asked, far more lightly than he actually felt.

“No,” Xander sighed, but his smile quickly returned.  “But I can think of worse ways to go.”

“So…?”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed instantly, and that was all Spike needed to whisk Xander up to the comfort of their bedroom.

 

Despite wanting to rip the clothes from Xander’s body, Spike waited until he was given the go ahead, then he deferentially began the process, removing Xander’s footwear and shirt before stopping, aware of Xander’s insecurity over this further hesitation.

“Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” Spike assured him emphatically, running his fingers over Xander’s chest and stomach, hands meeting to lay over the scar beneath the t-shirt.

“Traumatised tin-ribs or Sunnydale stocky,” Xander considered.  “What about this?  Like me like this?”

“I like you any way I can get you.”

“I haven’t been working out so much recently what with work and all, but I fit some in and I don’t think I look too bad, ‘cause, y’know, I want to look good for you, and if you want me to try harder I will…”  Fingertips on Xander’s lips stopped the doubting words.

“Perfect.  You’re…”  Spike took another heated look.  “Perfect.”

Xander shook the fingers off and Spike stepped back, waiting once again.

“Is this…”  Xander gestured at the space between them.  “…because I’m…I’m sire?” Xander asked unsurely.

“I want to know how it feels.”

“It’s us, Spike.  Just us, nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing’s changed, but plenty’s different.”

“I don’t want different.”

“Then…play at different.  For me.”  His spread his hand over his own chest now.  “For the demon in me.  Give it what it needs.”

“Play?  At being your sire?”  Spike nodded, eyes filled with lust and tinged with gold.  “But I want us as equals.”

“If, a month ago, I’d said to you I wanted to play with a bit of sire/childe stuff you wouldn’t have questioned it, just got on with creating a fantasy for me.”

“Yeah, but I doubt I’d have cast you in the role of childe.  I don’t see you as submissive.”

“But I’ve always been content to be submissive to you in bed.  To be honest it’s been a bit of a thrill knowing that, for whatever reason, I can be that way and not have you think any less of me.”

“That isn’t you being submissive.”

“Is for a vampire, love.  This just proves my point, this attitude of yours.  You can make me whatever you want but you still let me keep my pride.  Don’t look so troubled at that, I want to be whatever you want.”

“So long as it’s what you want too.”

“After everything I’d been through I couldn’t have imagined showing that – actively wanting that – with a man, that submissiveness, but…  You, Xander.  It’s just…”

“Sire?”

“You.  But…sire, yes.  Belonging.  At last.  Fucking hell, Xan, you don’t know what the thought of it does to me.  It takes all my strength to keep the demon from worshipping at your feet.”

“We appease the demon and then we go back to normal?”

“That’s the plan.  And it’s not so strange: we’re always playing, your imagination astonishes me.”

“So…sire and childe.  And we’re just looking at a fuck here?  Nothing creeping into real life?  Because I couldn’t…”

“No, I couldn’t.  But here…  Play,” Spike urged, sure he was getting his way, and the sound of his first excited breaths made up Xander’s mind for him.

Xander thought about the situation, certain information he knew about vampire customs falling into place alongside what he imagined a good sire should be, and taking into account all the naughty little fantasies he’d come up with in the past that had touched, often unwittingly, on this subject matter.  He considered what he would have wanted if everything had gone pear-shaped and Spike had been persuaded to turn him in Sunnydale.  Xander experienced an inner tremor at that, because surely that was the ultimate in taking?  Unquestionable proof of a man’s worth and how much he is wanted and desired, to be kept and cherished for eternity.  He’d longed to experience that, and now…  Yes, he wanted to give it to Spike.  And if that meant the claiming that the vampire needed then Xander could…play.

He increased the distance between them, drawing himself to stand tall, smoothing any remaining concern and confusion from his features and presenting a façade of perfect composure.

“Let me see you,” he instructed, and Spike was quick to shed his own clothes, standing naked before Xander within seconds, staring into his face with an expression of anticipation that couldn’t decide whether to be nervous or excited.  “Let me see you,” Xander repeated, a little more demandingly.

Panic flitted over Spike’s face and it was all Xander could do not to offer comfort.  The vampire’s head dropped in submission.

“I don’t…”

“Let me see you, Spike.”  Xander’s tone was softer and Spike peered at him from beneath his brows.  “Show your sire your true face.  Show me who I’m sire to.”

The panic heightened before it was forcibly quelled, and Spike’s head rose, face morphing into that of the demon.

“Sire,” he acknowledged shakily.

“Be proud of what you are,” Xander told him.  “Don’t you ever be ashamed or afraid to show me your face.  I love you and I love this face.”

“Yes, Sire.”

Xander watched with satisfaction as his partner’s head tilted up, an obedient show of arrogance that stirred his body and emotions; his Spike, whole Spike.

“That’s good.  That’s the attitude you save for other people, understand?”

“Yes, Sire.”

The voice was stronger too, more in character, and Xander smiled.

“That’s good.  You’re good.  I’m very pleased with you.”

Xander saw Spike’s chest expand as he took a huge breath, and he wondered if it was about the shock of praise or the calming of lust, but it was strangely erotic nevertheless, and if Xander was surprised at being turned on by a simple inhalation he didn’t let it show.  Another lesser breath, more about tasting the air, Xander recognised, and Spike had to know just how horny Xander was getting.

“What can I do for you, Sire?”

“I want you to understand something, Spike.  I don’t want some subservient creature to crawl at my feet.  You’re a childe not a minion, and I need to see the spark that made me want to keep you.  I have to see the strength in you, the strength of the demon.  A magnificent demon who will not be cowed.”

“You want me to fight you?”

Xander began a casual stroll around his partner.

“Not fight.  Challenge perhaps.  I’d find that quite…stimulating.”  Behind Spike, Xander drew close and whispered into his ear.  “Arousing.  Because I will always be sire, and sire will always overwhelm you, but I want to see your power.  I want to see what I possess.”  Xander’s lips ghosted over the earlobe.  “Understand?”

Spike swallowed hard.

“Yes, Sire.”

Xander continued around Spike, coming to a halt before him, looking down disapprovingly at the vampire’s erection and running a fingertip in circles over the moist tip, the stimulation almost causing Spike to buckle.

“I didn’t give you permission for this,” Xander told him in the same silky tones.  “You better get rid of it.”

“Sire?” Spike gasped.

Xander took Spike’s hand and placed it on his cock.

“Go ahead.  Besides, I don’t want you too excited when I fuck you.  Go on, I want to watch you come for me.”

“Xander…” emerged as a charged breath, and Xander laid a hand on Spike’s forearm and gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re good, you do this for me.”

“Are you staying—”

“Yeah.  Right here.”  Closer than right here, in fact: Xander moved in until there was just enough space for him to watch Spike’s actions.  “Do it, Spike.”

Xander watched with long-standing fascination as Spike’s fist began to move over his cock, hard, swift strokes guaranteed to get this over with as quickly as possible.  Spike closed his eyes in a feeble act of defence.  He’d known this would be an extraordinary thing to do – give the demon over to its sire – but he hadn’t expected the torrent of primal emotions that raged within him.  He also hadn’t expected Xander to require an offering so soon, unwittingly and immediately demanding that this master show deference, almost as submissive a gesture as making Spike offer his throat.  It was terrifying and exhilarating and every fibre of Spike was happy with that; no hope ever of weaning himself off of this extraordinary man, Spike admitted to himself, and that thought alone was enough to bring about his orgasm, biting into his lip to stay silent as his climax ripped through him.

Xander was ready to grab Spike as he swayed before him, but after a few seconds the vampire recovered and stilled.

“Sire,” he murmured, a single word that made the offering.

“Thank you,” the soft acceptance that completed the ritual, and Xander truly took the demon into his keeping, mastering the master.  “’Kay, now, you’ve made a bit of a mess.”

Spike’s eyes flickered open and he looked down to focus on the white streaks over the dark blue of Xander’s t-shirt.

“Yes, Sire,” Spike agreed hoarsely, still dazed from his exertions.  “I’ll clean it up.”

“Hey!”  The new sharpness in Xander’s tone brought Spike to a halt before he was three feet away.  “Deal with this.”

“I was getting a…  Sorry, I didn’t think.”

“Sorry what?”

Sire.  Xander, Sire.”

Spike dipped to urgently lick his come from Xander’s t, trying not to let the command and the action make him hard again, seeing as sire – Oh, fuck, Sire – hadn’t given him permission.  He dropped to his knees and sucked up every drop, following his own scent to ensure he hadn’t missed the tiniest fleck, mouth fastening over Xander’s pants where his erection pressed at the confining material.  Xander tried not to moan as Spike’s fangs snagged in the heavy cotton, enjoying the thrill of danger and wanting to fuck Spike now, forget the playing, just fuck him and be fucked by him and keep fucking until the recent damage to their relationship was healed by lust and love.

“Get up,” Xander said roughly.  Spike obeyed, but the expression was a little less docile now, and that was so erotic, anticipating the challenge that Xander had requested.  “Get on the bed, get ready for me.”

“This it then?  You honestly think you can claim me?  Full claim?” Spike…played.

“Yeah.  That’s my intent.”

Spike gave a snort of derision.

“I’m a master.  It’s not like you can just take me.”

Xander gave a knowing smile and Spike quirked an eyebrow.

“Defy me and I’ll exclude you,” Xander told him.

“Think you can throw me out?”

“Exclude you from my presence?  Easily.”  Spike visibly wavered at that; Xander wondered if it had touched on too real a fear and rapidly set about putting it right.  “But it won’t come to that, will it?  ‘Cause you’re so good, so willing.  I say come and you do, that’s a good, good childe.”

Xander saw Spike melt under the praise before setting his mind back to challenge.

“Try it,” he said defiantly.  “You just try and take me.”

The human’s smile turned distinctly hyena-esque and the vampire’s blue eyes turned black with lust as his body responded in the most obvious way.

“What did I tell you about this?”  Xander batted Spike’s cock and the vampire flinched.  “You don’t have permission.”

“Can’t help it,” Spike confessed breathlessly.  “It’s you.  Xander.  Sire.  You.”

Xander gently pinched the vampire’s swollen glans, observing with satisfaction the fresh pulse of pre-come that drooled over his finger and thumb.

“And you honestly think you can defy me in any way?”

Spike’s eyes narrowed meanly but, before he could come back with a suitably acerbic response, Xander grabbed him and hurled him onto the bed, following fast and pinning Spike down.  The vampire put up a token struggle once he’d got over his initial surprise at the move, but soon he was motionless except for the rise and fall of his chest as he panted, gazing hungrily up at the stony face of his lover.

“What?” he asked curiously when Xander made no further move.

“Get away from me.”

Spike blinked in further surprise before looking at their position.

“Can’t get when I’m got.”

“You’re not trying.”

Xander sounded genuinely peeved, which was very disheartening: Spike knew he could dislodge the human, simply didn’t want to.  He wanted to be taken and fucked and loved, he wanted his demon to stop agitating for Sire’s claiming.  But this way he was getting nothing at all, so…  He tried what he thought would be just enough of an effort, attempting to toss aside Xander with a flick of his arms.  And nothing happened: Xander didn’t budge.  Another, more determined try and Xander moved with him fractionally before easily flattening wrists back to mattress.  Spike took a few seconds to assimilate this: he knew that Xander was strong but this was ridiculous, human against a vampire, and he made a concerted effort to throw Xander off, finding the energy used against him as Xander rolled them and came out on top once more.  Spike growled and flexed his muscles, ready to send Xander flying, when Xander again did the unexpected, releasing his arms and dropping onto his body, teeth going straight for Spike’s throat and clenching onto the firm flesh.

“God, yes!” Spike choked, writhing at the sensation of both the bite and, albeit willing, defeat, feeling Xander shifting to get his hand between them; the hand grasped Spike’s cock and pumped vigorously, Xander increasing the force of his bite when he chose to make Spike come, and despite trying his very best to withstand the pressure, Spike climaxed with a strangled yell.

 

Xander released Spike’s throat and, through force of habit, watched for a few seconds to ensure the vampire was okay.  Yes, happily sated Spike was more than okay, relaxing into blissful limpness with pure contentment on his face.  Xander scrambled off the bed and out of his clothes, and was back in seconds, indelicately parting Spike’s thighs and kneeling between them, scooping up the semen on the vampire’s belly and smearing it on his own cock.  He adjusted his position, moving fast as Spike began to stir, guiding his erection to Spike’s opening before growling…

“I am your sire, and this is my right.”

…and with one almighty thrust, forcing himself into Spike’s body.  Spike shuddered from head to toes and his face silently contorted, exposing a vivid array of emotions, touching on shock and pain and glee; despite the momentary inner panic Xander refused to let himself falter, he would not let Spike down on this.  He fucked to meet his lover’s needs: fucked him like a demon, taking him like a sire.

Before long Spike was whispering his appreciation, pleading for more, even as Xander pounded into him, writhing in pleasure and fucking back for all he was worth.  Xander stared into the vampire’s beautiful face, and the joy was enough to make the stickiness of blood on his thighs tolerable, Spike’s blatant satisfaction overwhelming all his fears.  A once-realised truth re-surfaced, the understanding of vampires and strength and power and blood and violence.

“I claim you,” he told Spike, the demon Spike whose golden eyes opened and fixed on his sire.  Demon Spike who purred at this violation, this affirmation of his worth and desirability, Xander’s acceptance of his childe’s ecstatically given gift of blood and self.  “I claim you.”

“Sire,” emerged, low and drawn out and sensual.

“Yeah.  Sire.”  Xander stopped moving, hand slapping down on a hip to stop Spike’s continued movements.  “You’re mine, we both know that.  And now…  You will acknowledge me as your true sire and deny anyone who has a previous claim on you,” Xander demanded.

“Yes,” Spike hissed, furiously bucking against the restricting hand in an attempt to make his lover move.

“Say it, Spike.  Say it.

They fell absolutely still as their eyes met and they saw the truth.  This was not merely about the demon’s longing for its sire; it was about what Xander needed, what Xander was asking of Spike.  Not playing.  Spike’s hands came up to gently stroke Xander’s face as his own morphed into its human countenance.

“Xander.  I belong to you.  I’m faithful to you only.  No-one else touches me, no-one else ever will.”  It wasn’t about ‘no-one’ though.  “He’s not been here…” Spike tilted his hips, leaving Xander with no doubts as to what he was referring to.  “He’s not been here…” and Spike lifted his head to kiss his lover.  “Only you, Xander.”

Xander knew he had to trust his instincts on this, and his instincts would brook no argument.

“I believe you,” he swore as he gazed into Spike’s eyes.  “I trust you.”

“Thank you,” Spike responded with words and tender kisses.  “You’re right to.  My love.  My darling.”

The kisses continued, lovingly rather than passionately, and Spike smiled into the kisses because he could feel the difference, knew that Xander accepted his promises.  It made him…horny.  Everything about Xander made him horny.  He wriggled and clenched his muscles on Xander’s still deeply embedded cock.  The human got the message.  He played at playing.

“Give me my childe.”  Now, instead of fear or hesitation, there came a lustful snickering growl, and Spike proudly wore the demon’s face.  “Say it.”

“You are my true sire,” Spike told him with intense feeling, “and I deny everyone who has a previous claim.”

Spike’s body reared expectantly as Xander began to withdraw, and expectations were fully met as he slammed back into the tight confines of Spike’s body.

“Mine,” Xander stated unequivocally as he built into a punishing rhythm.  “Mine,” as he gripped the wrists that Spike wriggled into his hands.  “Mine,” as he fucked the fear of Angel out of his mind.  “I make you pure,” he gasped as his orgasm approached in a rush, “no-one else ever touched you.”

“Yours.  Sire.”

At Spike’s acquiescence Xander soared into his climax, uttering his lover’s name like a war cry before sinking his teeth into the offered flesh of the vampire’s neck, rutting madly as he felt Spike respond as ardently.  Xander drank, and the effects of the blood coursed through his body, keeping him aroused and able and coming until he collapsed onto his lover in exhaustion rather than satiation.

A subdued purr came from Spike; Xander automatically offered his wrist and felt the vampire’s fangs slide effortlessly into the flesh.  Xander groaned, gave an involuntary thrust, came some more.  The purr increased in volume until it blocked out all other senses, lulling Xander into unconsciousness.

Spike lapped at the skin until his saliva sealed the wound, then he bit down, taking delight in puncturing the site again, grinding his renewed erection up against his barely stirring partner as he fed on a morsel of sire’s blood.  He patiently laved and sealed, leaking cock twitching eagerly as arousal rushed through him in expectation: he bit again, this time coming instantly as the taste of Xander flooded his senses.  Another mouthful of blood and Spike sealed the cuts for a final time, purring and cuddling his love, his sire, more content than he could remember being in years.

The demon was at peace; he was at peace.

A novel concept.  Peace.

 

 

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