"Post Coital"
Author: Marie-Claude Danis
Feedback: mc@fangy.net
Site: http://fangy.net/mc.html
Distribution: List archives, or just ask.
Spoilers: none, but it's set post-OMWF
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Summary: Spike and Buffy, post-game.
"I love the way you smell after sex," he murmured contentedly against her stomach, nuzzling the warm flesh.
Buffy stretched languidly under him and smiled, stifling a tired yawn. She let her fingers rake idly through his disheveled hair while he trailed lazy, open-mouthed kisses on her belly. His hands squeezed her flanks lovingly before he hoisted himself up her body. Spike settled against her, half covering her, with their legs entangled the way she liked. He propped his head up on his hand and looked down at her, amused by the battle with sleep she was quickly losing.
Buffy let her eyes close, conscious of his gaze on her, but comforted by it. She felt him reach out and run a thumb across the slight flush still on her cheek. She forced her eyes open, but had to close them again immediately when he leaned in and kissed her, his lukewarm lips opening hers easily. She laughed in the kiss, and he broke away with a pleased smile.
They stared at each other for a moment, and Buffy opened her mouth to say something when she saw the mischievous smirk playing across his lips.
"Oh don't you start with me, you!"
Spike's smile broke out into a full grin. "I win."
"I'm tired!"
"That's right."
"Nothing to do with stamina."
He settled next to her, his face in her neck. "It has everything to do with stamina. I win."
"Fine. You win."
"Ha!"
"For tonight."
"Yeah, yeah..." He took a lungful in, smelling her hair, her skin, the thin cooling sheen of sweat covering it, pooling in the dips of her throat. His eyes closed and his fingers made little circles on her stomach. It heaved softly under his touch, and they stayed silent for several minutes, just enjoying the fresh night air blowing through the half-pulled curtains and onto their still bodies. Buffy felt like a painting, one that parents would pull their children away from while throwing wistful looks at it over their shoulders.
She loved how his body fit against hers. He was Buffy-sized, she often teased him. When hips to hips, they were also eye to eye, which was infinitely more useful than craning her neck to reach the mouth of giants. When they stood he towered over her by a few inches only, and he would always lean in when she talked, tilted his head just enough to make her feel like he couldn't possibly hear anything else but what she was telling him. And in bed like this, his weight was just right, pressing her into the soft mattress without crushing her, his strength complimentary to hers. Same with stamina, but they'd made that a constant contest between them, one she had no problem letting him win. Her custom-made vamp.
Spike suddenly pressed his nose behind her ear and she squealed, her body squirming into his as a ticklish shiver crept down her spine. "Aah! AAH!"
He grabbed her and buried his face in the dip of her neck, making growly sounds.
"Get off of me, you brute!" she managed between tired giggles and squirms. But his attack turned into a soft caress of his cheek against hers, and her breath caught in her throat, for no reason other than the sudden softness of his touch and the way he was smelling her again, eyes closed, quietly.
Her own hand went to his neck and she closed her eyes too, leaning into him, trying to memorise him like he did her. Some obsolete built-in Slayer part of her went "Vamp! Kill!", but it was easily tuned out by years of knowing better, and by what she was beginning to be able to smell, too, when she closed her eyes and let herself savour him.
The End