Brown Paper Packages

by Alexandria

Chapter Twelve

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Xander watched as his fingers drummed some extraneous rhythm on the plastic of the window. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. He knew it was probably driving the people sitting around him nuts but he didn’t care enough to stop. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. He sighed and then glanced down at his watch, groaning when he saw the time. Only five minutes since the last time he checked. This was some kind of torture, it was, he was sure of it. He wracked his brain trying to remember what he could possibly have done recently to deserve this. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. He turned back to watch his fingers, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. For fuck’s sake was this plane ever going to land?

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Turn. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Turn. Spike slowly counted each step off as he paced across Xander’s living room, pointedly keeping his head down and concentrating only on his feet. Exactly twelve paces from one side to the other. Well, sixteen if he took small steps and nine if he lengthened his stride but really it was twelve steps. Twelve steps back and forth from the wall to the door and if he kept his head down he couldn’t see the clock on the wall or the one on the microwave. Twelve steps back and forth and really the motion was good, kept him from throwing things across the room or tearing something to shreds or playing tag with the patches of sunlight that bled through the blinds and skittered across the floor. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. He raised his head on his way back to the door and looked at the clock and felt like hitting something. Or someone. Only five minutes since the last time he checked. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. For fuck’s sake was that plane ever going to land?

Xander tapped his foot, trying to be patient as he slowly made his way up the aisle. Only the fact that he could see the bright patch of light signalling the open door kept him from shoving his way ahead. It wasn’t that bad, it wasn’t, he didn’t need to get home to see him that badly that he would knock down little old ladies and small children. He didn’t, he told himself sternly as he reached up and helped the person in front of him wrestle her bag down from the overhead bin. He didn’t. He dimly registered the “thanks” as he continued shuffling ahead. It registered enough to amuse him though. What was he supposed to say to that “Oh, you’re welcome. But really I just wanted to get you out of the way so I could get home and get laid?” He snorted at the thought and felt a smile cross his face for the first time that day. Home. Laid. Life was getting better by the second.

“Oh, fuck this.” Spike spun on his heel in the middle of step eight and headed into the bedroom, checking for the thousandth time that all was as it should be. Fresh sheets. Check. He suppressed a smirk at that. He could only imagine the look on Buffy’s face if she caught him doing the laundry. Candles. Check. Those black ones that Xander liked and deep down he did too. But, honestly, he thought as he ran a finger over the label. Midsummer’s Night? How could he not like that. Lube. Check. Like that wasn’t the first thing he stocked up on last night when he was off gathering supplies. He padded out to the kitchen, pulling the refrigerator door open. Stuff for salad. Check. Steaks. Check. Champagne. Check. He closed the door and leaned on the kitchen counter, eyes roaming the ceiling. “You are such a sap.” His own voice in his ears and he grinned, ducking his head down. He couldn’t work up outrage even at himself. He glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes to go. He knew it should bother him that he was so happy about that, but he couldn’t spare the energy. Twenty minutes. That was nothing after four days. He headed back to the living room and started pacing again, trying to ignore the spring in his step.

He practically ran to the parking lot, grateful for having the foresight to drive himself to the airport. There was no way he could have dealt with any of them. He opened the door and slid behind the wheel, tossing his bag onto the other seat. He backed out and caught sight of himself in the mirror. Silly grin and wide eyes and looking happier than he could remember looking in months. Huh. He paid the attendant and then hit the gas, eager to get home. Why shouldn’t he be happy? The trade show went well, his boss was very pleased with the way he dealt with the vendors. And Spike was waiting for him at home. He bit his lip and tried to keep his hands from shaking. Spike. Waiting for him at home. Amazing.

Spike’s head snapped up as he heard the key turning in the lock. He watched the door open and then suddenly Xander was there, standing right there in front of him. He glanced him over quickly, absently noticing the slight tan and the smile on Xander’s face. And then one, two, three strides and he reached out and grabbed Xander’s shirt, yanking him against his chest. “Spike,” breathed onto his lips and then he was kissing Xander, Xander’s hands buried in his hair. Spike dropped his hands to Xander’s waist and held on as Xander backed him across the room. Xander’s taste and scent filled him and he shuddered. This, oh, how could he have not realized that was what that odd absence had been. Xander’s taste and Xander’s scent and hot, hot hands stroking the sides of his face.

They crashed into a wall and Xander took another step forward, pressing them tightly together. He pulled back just enough to run his eyes over Spike’s face, to see the burning blue of his eyes and the sheen on his lips before he leaned back down and kissed Spike again. Spike’s hands ran under his shirt and up his back and he shivered slightly at the cool touch. He shrugged out of his coat, letting it fall to the floor as Spike smiled against his mouth.

“Miss me?” Spike tipped his head back, exposing the long column of his throat, twisting a bit, just enough so that he rubbed full length against Xander.

Xander bit his lip, holding back a moan, then dropped his head down and licked a long, slow path from the hollow of Spike’s throat to behind his ear. He slowly lapped down the line of Spike’s jaw, hands on Spike’s shoulders, trying to hold Spike still. “Maybe a bit. Just a tad. You get the present I left you?”

Spike whimpered as Xander ran just the tip of his tongue over his lips. “Mmm, yes.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then tried to gather his wits enough to move. “Very clever, Xander. You know, you could make a fortune doing that professionally.” He brought his hands down to Xander’s chest, then pushed slightly, creating just enough room so that he could move. “I thought I was going to go blind, you know.” He gave Xander another tiny shove, then slid out from Xander’s arms. He headed down the hall to the bedroom, arching a brow as Xander stood looking at him. “Are you just going to stand there? Because, really, Xander, it would be a pity to have to get myself off when you’re finally here to do it for me.”

Xander laughed and followed Spike into the bedroom. He glanced around quickly, noting the candles and how neat it was before throwing himself on the bed. “Hey, you aren’t the only one who was concerned about his eyesight.” He threw his arms out wide. “C’mon, show up me what you got, Spike.”

Spike tilted his head, drinking in the sight of Xander spread out on the bed, arms wide and cheeks flushed. “Fuck. Do you have any idea,” he shook his head and then pounced, dropping down on Xander’s chest. “You have no idea, do you?” He ran his hands down Xander’s arms, circling his wrists and then bringing Xander’s arms over his head. “You have no idea, none at all, no concept of what you look like, spread out and waiting for me.” He held Xander’s wrists firmly in one hand as he ran the other down Xander’s chest. “No fucking idea what you do to me.”

“Christ, Spike,” Xander arched into Spike’s touch, desperate to move, to touch, equally desperate to stay where he was and let Spike touch him. “Please, Spike,” he moaned out as Spike slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. He started to pant when Spike shifted, moving to kneel next to him on the bed, one hand still pinning his wrists to the bed. “Please,” moaned out as Spike bent and began to scatter feather light kisses across his chest. His eyes closed and he tossed his head back and forth, the touch maddening and delightful and exactly, precisely what he missed. “Spike.”

Spike slowly reached over and undid the buckle on Xander’s belt, quivering as he held back from reaching down to trace the line of Xander’s cock. He slid the belt from the loops, Xander arching up when it caught under his back. Spike leaned up, looking at the length of leather in his hand. He bent and kissed Xander gently, then ran a thumb over Xander’s lips.

“Do you trust me?”

Xander looked at Spike and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.” And he did, he realized even as the words were leaving his mouth. He did trust him. He wondered briefly when that occurred than put the thought aside for later. He would consider that later. Now he had more pressing matters at hand.

Spike leaned his forehead against Xander’s at the answer. No hesitation. No evasion. Just a simple yes. He pressed a kiss to the side of Xander’s neck, then leaned back. Quickly he looped the belt how he wanted, then slipped the loop over Xander’s wrists, securing the other end around the headboard. He looked down, checking Xander’s reaction. Eyes dark and pupils huge but no fear. Lust, yes. But no fear.

“It’s not too tight?” Spike slid off the bed, pulling his own shirt off, trying to take a moment to calm down. He leaned down and quickly worked his boots off, never taking his eyes off Xander’s face.

Xander tugged a little, then shook his head. “No, actually,” he felt the flush spread across his face. “Feels kind of nice.” He tugged again, liking the faint bite of leather against his skin.

“Shit. Xander,” Spike shuddered, then quickly stripped off his jeans. He licked his lips when he heard Xander’s sudden gasp. He stretched, purposefully arching his back, showing off a little. Another gasp and he grinned, moving to stand at the end of the bed. He knelt between Xander’s feet, running a hand up either leg, feeling the burn as Xander’s eyes roamed over him. “You want me to show you what I’ve got, do you? I think I can do that.” He slowly inched his way up Xander’s legs, shifting forward on the bed as he did so. He ran his fingers under the waistband of Xander’s jeans, pausing when he reached the button. “So, I’m going to guess you want these off?”

“Fuck. Please, please, just, gods,” Xander tilted his hips up, trying to nudge Spike’s hand that tiny bit to the right. “Please.” He twisted again, biting his lip as he tugged at the belt. Amazing, just amazing to be here like this and at Spike’s mercy, not able to touch, only to beg. Amazing. Now he knew why Spike liked it so much. He didn’t even try to hold back the moan when Spike finally worked the button free and then slowly slid the zipper down. “C’mon, Spike, c’mon, don’t, don’t fucking tease, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon.” He didn’t care that he was begging, he didn’t, all he wanted was Spike to touch, lick him, fuck him, just anything. As long as it was now.

“Shhhh,” Spike slowly worked the jeans down Xander’s legs, pausing to tug off Xander’s shoes and socks. He tugged the jeans off completely, tossing them to the floor then moved back up, lying against Xander’s side. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful, shirt still on, tied to the bed. I’m not kidding, I could make a fucking fortune taping you like this, so beautiful and desperate and” Spike leaned down and kissed Xander, unable to finish the thought. “So fucking beautiful,” Spike murmured against Xander’s mouth as he reached over and grabbed the lube. He slid across Xander’s chest, running his free hand through Xander’s hair for a moment. He leaned back up, knees on either side of Xander’s chest. “Do you know what I’ve wanted, what I’ve been thinking about ever since you walked out that door, do you?” He bent down for a quick kiss then straightened back up, running a hand down his own chest. “I’ve wanted you. Wanted you inside me, fucking me, long and slow. It’s all I could think about, all I wanted. And now here you are. And that’s just what you’re going to do.” He opened the tube and quickly slicked a hand and then reached behind him.

“Oh, shit.” Xander watched, stunned and breathless as Spike began to finger himself, fucking his own hand. “Fuck. Oh, fuck.” He shuddered, trying to keep his body still, fighting the desperate urge to thrust up. “Spike, you better, I don’t know how long, holy fuck,” Xander bit his lip, battling back his desire. “You better hurry.”

“Really?” Spike raised an eyebrow, “I take it you like this?” He was amazed that his voice was so steady. He was as desperate as Xander, but he didn’t want it to show. Xander growled at him and Spike laughed, tossing his head back. “Ok, ok.” He squirted some more lube into his palm and then quickly coated Xander’s cock. He shivered as Xander’s eyes met his.

“Now, Spike. Right now.” Spike nodded, mouth dry as he slowly sank down. He groaned as Xander filled him. This, this, there was nothing as good as this.

“Holy shit.” Xander’s eyes went wide as Spike clenched around him. “Spike.” He tried to thrust, not able to get any purchase on the mattress. He felt his toes curl around the sheets as he tried to find a rhythm. “Spike.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Spike’s face, off the way Spike was worrying his lower lip, off the bead of sweat that was forming on Spike’s temple. “Spike,” all he could do was moan Spike’s name as he tried to thrust, tried to make it good.

“Xander,” Spike sighed out, bending forward a bit then opening his eyes. “Let me, just let me.” He felt the shudder pass from Xander’s body through his and he gasped at the feel of it. “Let me.” He began to move then, one hand dropping to Xander’s leg, fingers tracing the muscle while he stroked himself with the other. “So good, you feel,” words failed him and all he could do was move. He kept it slow at first, slow and long and exactly what he had been wanting. He tried to ignore Xander’s broken cries and the way Xander said his name over and over. He wanted it to last, wanted to feel the burn of it for days. But then Xander opened his eyes and he heard “Spike, please, just, now,” and he couldn’t stop. He sped up, riding Xander hard, driving them faster and faster, his head down and the sound of his cries mingling with Xander’s. He felt Xander come, felt the liquid burn he loved, heard the scream of his name and it was too much. He came long and hard, unable to think, unable to speak, just white hot pleasure slamming through him. He collapsed onto Xander’s chest and he lay there, enjoying the motion as Xander panted underneath him.

“Wow, that was, yeah,” Xander shifted a bit, blinking as feeling crept back into his limbs. He tugged at the belt again, wanting to touch Spike. “Um, you think maybe you could,”

Spike blinked up at him then smiled. “Oh, yeah, sorry.” He reached up and quickly undid Xander’s wrists. “Brain kind of stopped working there for a minute.”

Xander folded his arms around Spike’s waist, holding him close. “I know the feeling. Whoa.” They lay there for a few minutes and Xander could feel drowsiness stealing over them both. “You want to get under the covers?” He had to ask, even though he didn’t think he had the energy to move.

“Mmmm,” Spike sighed out. “’M fine right here.” He turned his head and licked a bead of sweat off Xander’s neck. “Welcome home.”

Xander’s arms tightened around Spike as they both fell asleep.

 

To Be Continued....