Day Of DaysBy Sajinn
Chapter Eighteen
Xander fairly bounced down the street, ignoring Spike when the vampire rolled his eyes. They were on patrol. Together. And Buffy had actually condoned it. Spike had surprised pretty much everyone by showing up for the regularly scheduled Scooby meeting, offering to go out on patrol. Of course, he was just looking for a fight, but still... While Spike was known for helping out occasionally, of late he'd been avoiding the Slayer's group. Well, most of the Slayer's group.
"Yer gonna run off all the nasties," Spike growled as Xander skipped along beside him. Truth be told he didn't mind the boy's antics, but at the same time Spike really wanted to beat something up. Next to sex, violence was the most exhilarating thing in a vampire's unlife. Well, in Spike's unlife. The blonde had met a few vamps who flipped the order of things, namely Angelus. To Spike, that just proved how irrevocably insane his Sire was.
"Sorry," Xander said, slowing down only slightly. He was happy, though, really happy. It wasn't that common an occurrence for Xander to feel this... gleeful. To Xander, it was worth noting that of late he'd been happier than normal, most often when with Spike. Now that they'd been officially granted time together by her Slayerness, Xander was on cloud nine. He didn't care what they did--wander through cemeteries, stake a few vamps, chase down a demon or two… fuck. It was all the same to Xander. Well, not all the same. He'd much rather fuck than any of the other things, but he'd take what he could get.
"No, you're not," Spike muttered, suppressing a grin.
Xander shrugged. "You're right. Where are we going, anyway?"
"Cemetery," Spike replied. "See if we can find a fledge or two."
When they got to the cemetery, however, the place was empty. There wasn't a vampire, zombie, grave-robbing demon, or evil mastermind in sight. "Uh, Spike?" Xander began. "There's nothing here. What are we gonna do now?"
Spike looked around. Damn it, the boy was right. What the hell was he going to do now? Besides Xander, of course. "Check out the crypts. Might find something there."
Xander obediently followed Spike through the cemetery as they investigated every crypt they could find. Each one revealed the same thing--nothing at all. "This is a bust," Xander muttered as they walked into yet another crypt. If he'd been paying attention to where they were going, he'd have recognized it as Spike's own hovel, complete with busted television and ratty armchair. It wasn't until Spike began to rummage though a chest against the far wall that Xander realized where they were. "Er, this is your place."
"Hmm?" Spike hummed as he went through the contents of the chest, occasionally pocketing something in the depths of his duster. "Yeah, it is. Cozy, innit?"
"Yeah, just the word I was thinking of. Cozy," Xander said, gingerly picking his way through the tomb. "Remind me again why you like crypts so much?"
"Low rent, quiet neighbors," Spike replied absently.
"Not to mention that unique, home-of-the-dead charm," Xander added.
Spike finally finished retrieving whatever personal items he wanted and made his way back to Xander. "You don't like it?" He asked softly, leaning back on the marble block that was his bed.
"It's great, Spike," Xander said slowly, hoping not to step on any undead toes. "Just a bit...dank."
"A bit?" Spike echoed. "You're right. Should've gone with more cobwebs." Xander grimaced and shook his head. Spike reached for the young man, drawing them together. Xander sighed and relaxed slightly, letting his head lay against Spike's shoulder.
"No cobwebs," Xander murmured, rubbing his face against the leather of Spike's duster. Spike tightened his hands on the boy's waist and turned them around, until Xander was pressed against the marble.
"What's a crypt without cobwebs?" Spike asked, hands already reaching up to pull Xander's clothes off.
"Clean crypt?" Xander mumbled, distracted by Spike now that the vampire had gotten him naked. Cold stone behind him, cold demon at his front. Xander trembled, chilled but hot still. That was what Spike did to him, every time. No dimmer switch on Xander's light bulb o' arousal, nope. The minute Spike touched him, spoke to him, hells even looked at him, and he was flying. This time was no different; the scrape of fingernails as Spike stripped him down, the silky slide of skin against his...
Spike snorted and lifted Xander at the hips, swiveling him around as he sat the young man on the stone platform behind him. Cold marble shocked the boy's knees and he yelped, only to have that startled sound fade into a moan as Spike ran his tongue down the boy's spine, hands simultaneously caressing straining arms. Spike catalogued every taste he encountered--salty, bitter sweat; the acid tang of adrenalin; the thick, musky traces of pheromones that grew stronger with every passing second. His boy was aroused, excited, growing more so with every passing second.
Xander wriggled under Spike's ministrations, feeling a bit odd and exposed. Yeah, this was Spike's place, but it was a crypt. In a cemetery. Full of dead things--things that might decide to wake up and interrupt and that would be very bad because Spike was *really* good at doing *that* to the small of Xander's back. But then that sinful mouth moved, no go back to doing that, please…
Spike grinned at Xander's mindless babble. He shifted his hands back, palming the globes of Xander's ass. The first flick of his tongue across the puckered flesh there made Xander freeze, then shudder. The low yowl wasn't a bad touch either. Spike repeated the caress, pushing slightly. This time Xander pushed back, still gibbering and shuddering.
Xander's mind was stuck on 'holy shit' and 'please god more', the two phrases becoming something of a mantra. Spike was, was, was pretty well blowing Xander's mind. The boy had never really given serious consideration to the act Spike was doing, certainly never thought it would feel like *that*, but it did. No wonder that book Xander had furtively read in the darkest corner of the library had spent so much time on *this* particular act. Oh gods, he was going to die, it felt so incredible.
Spike worked his tongue farther in, kneading Xander's skin with his fingers. The boy responded so well, so hotly. In fact, Spike was pretty sure that if he put just a bit more effort into it, he could bring Xander off just by doing this. The thought became a challenge, and Spike was never one to walk away from a dare. With a soft growl, Spike redoubled his efforts, stroking, licking and sucking until Xander was a quivering mass of boneless human, whimpering for either mercy or more, Spike couldn't tell which. Of course, that meant Spike kept going, just in case Xander had meant more and not mercy.
Xander let his weight fall onto his forearms as Spike managed to improve on his already impressive technique. The brunette couldn't find much of a thought to hold onto; his body was actually humming with pleasure, cock leaking onto cold marble even though neither he nor Spike had touched it at all. Thoughts of danger, of zombies and vampires in the cemetery, all fled to the same place that housed Xander's sense of propriety. Fuck it, and anyone who might walk in, a tiny part of Xander's semi-functional brain thought. He was almost there, so close, just one more good hard jab and...
A feral growl accompanied the long, slow shudder that told Spike he'd succeeded, made Xander come by this alone. He gave the boy one last loving lick and straightened, adjusting himself as he did so. "Eighteen," He said lightly as he rubbed a faint bruise on Xander's ass. The boy moaned and quivered, listing to one side. Spike grinned and reached over, gathering the boy in his arms. Soon they were ensconced in Spike's easy chair, rocking slowly as Xander rejoined the rest of the world.