\ Sta State We're In'

BY : Rune
Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Slash - Male/Male > Spike(William)/Xander > Spike(William)/Xander
Dragon prints: 6555
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

‘The State We’re In’

Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters.
Pairing: Spike/Xander

Author's Note: Some mention of 'vomit' - beware, squeamish ones ;)

Title, lyrics and mindset courtesy of The Chemical Brothers/Beth Orton track - ‘The State We’re In’

++++ ++++ ++++ ++++

‘I‘ve been searching baby
For a way to tell you how
Want to get though to you, boy...’

When it had fell out of the book and onto his lap, he’d flinched and nearly knocked it to the floor. Spiders weren’t high on Xander’s ‘Love It’ list, and that’s what he’d imagined had fallen from the ancient, cinnamon scented pages of the large, leather-bound volume that he’d opened to study. But it wasn’t some exploring arachnid. It was a letter.

The book in question had caught his eye immediately among a bunch that lay strewn on the desk. Why? It was about vampires, and lately Xander had a vested interest in vampires. No. Not vampires. Vamp-ire. As in one particular vampire.

Ok, so he had the hots for Spike. Big deal, bright lights.

Except it *was* a big deal. He’d struggled to come to terms with his feelings for months... well, weeks. And more so now that Anya had left. When it had came down to a choice between staying with the man she loved and returning to the demon realm with D‘Hoffryn.... Well let’s just say that true love hadn’t conquered all, this time. The mantle of mortality was too heavy for Anya to bear in the end and she‘d left. Still being in love with Xander was the price she had to pay and her penance for her brief time as a lowly human.

It had hurt - hurt like hell. But there wasn’t the hopelessness that he’d expected to feel and he’d discovered that he quite enjoyed admiring Spike from the shadows without feeling that he was being unfaithful to Anya. In time his feelings had progressed from mild infatuation to hot, fiery lust and now he was more than a little in love with the vampire.

That was a realisation that had caused him more than a few sleepless nights. Hell, he’d had a hard enough job admitting to himself that he liked guys without having to explain to Buffy and Willow that not only was he in love with one, but that the guy in question was Spike. And oh no, there was no way he could bring up that little nugget of joy to Giles. Let’s face it people, Spike weren’t no ordinary guy. He was their nemesis, a merciless killer, a demon, a gorgeous, slim and muscular piece of ass who walked like he had a hard-on he was just *praying* you’d go down on. Which Xander would, in a heartbeat.

And oh yeah, had he mentioned d.e.m.o.n? As in ‘fuck you senseless and then tell all of your friends’ type of demon. Or maybe he would be the ‘fuck you senseless and blackmail you forever’ type. He was pretty sure Spike was either/or all of the above.

But the *it* had happened. The letter that he’d thought was a spider. The flimsy piece of white paper that floated nonchalantly onto his knee as if it belonged there.

At first he’d thought it was a discarded piece of some research puzzle that Giles had been working on in days gone by. But when he’d lifted it from his knee and began to read, a few things quickly became apparent.

Firstly, the writing. It wasn’t the thin, spidery, barely legible lettering that Giles favoured. The text slid fluently, almost liquid-like in it’s form, across the page - graceful yet with just enough squaring off of the loops to suggest a masculine hand. It was a well practiced script that Xander’s mind insisted he recognised. He was pretty sure that he‘d seen this handwriting somewhere recently. Intrigued, he read on.

Second revelation. This was no casual chat, no imparting of research gleaned from the ancient text it had fallen from, this was a love letter. A love letter written from the heart of someone desperately smitten, hopelessly devoted and yearning for reciprocation. Of someone who had hidden their feelings with great skill, but could do so no longer. The letter was so full of passion and need that it left Xander breathless. But what totally blew him away, what made him gasp out loud and brought a fiery blush to his cheeks was that he was pretty sure that the letter had been written for him, and about him.

‘... All of this time and I still can’t get you out of my head. When I open my eyes, you’re there. When I close them to sleep, I dream of you... you and your hard body, your dark hair that I want to bury my face in, that I want to drown in, your mahogany eyes, the smell of you, the taste of you...

I want you so bad that sometimes it’s unbearable. I see you and I just want to reach out and grab you, hold you, and kiss you so long and so hard that you’d be seeing stars. I want to hold you; I want to bury myself inside you and make you scream for me. I want to make you see what it is that you do to me. I want them all to see it; I don’t want to hide it anymore. They should know the truth about how I feel. They should know that I don’t hate you. I love you. No one batted an eyelid about the witches being together, why not us?

And her. She was supposed to love you. How could she not beg to be with you, how can she live without you? I can‘t. You were meant to be with me, you belong to me and I to you, my beautiful dark one...’

It was when he reached the end of the text that Xander saw the letter had been written by someone that he knew; it was no surprise that he’d recognised the script. It was signed firstly ‘Will’, but that had been heavily stricken out and replaced with ‘Spike’. And the book itself, it had come from the crypt - Spike’s crypt. He’d given it to Xander along with some others that the boy had needed a few days previous.

With trembling hands, Xander carefully folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket. His mind raced and a million scenarios flooded his brain. Spike calling him a ‘nummy treat’. Spike being so reluctant to leave the basement. Spike fighting alongside him with the Slayer. The casual banter, occasional insult - all meant to hide how Spike truly felt. And her. He’d mentioned her. How she’d left him.

It was too perfect to be true. Spike was in love with him. He was in love with Spike. They were both unattached, both lonely, both looking for some kind of connection...

He wasn’t letting this go. For once he would grab courage by the balls and face this thing out. He was an adult for chrissakes; he had no reason to be afraid, especially of what his friends thought. And the Slayer wasn’t his mom. He could see who he pleased, love who he pleased... It had been good enough for Buffy, why not for him? It wasn’t as if Spike could actually hurt him in anyway. And he had proof. Right here in his pocket. Proof of how Spike felt about him, proof of his love.

No. He wasn’t letting this go.


‘There’s no escaping now
Let me show you how
What it feels to be true...’

“I’m gay.”

Spike’s eyes widened in surprise. Could it be true? Could this really be Xander bloody Harris, standing here in this cold, comfortless crypt, telling the demon who used to be his nemesis that he was *gay*? The vampire got to his feet and studied the trembling, dark haired human, blue eyes sweeping over the young man’s body and finally returning to lock with Xander’s mahogany orbs.

The blonde sniffed nonchalantly. “You don’t look bloody gay to me. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you look pretty fucking miserable.”

Xander flinched. “What? No. I mean, yeah. I mean no... Not gay, gay. *Gay*. As in not of the happy gay.”

“Ah. You mean the ‘shaggin’ blokes up the ass’ kinda gay. Oh. I get you. Congratu-fuckin‘-lations.” Spike turned and walked to his battered sofa, falling onto it heavily and then reaching for the TV remote.

The young man’s eyes narrowed, and then he giggled nervously. “Ok... Waiting for the punch line, here.”

Spike flicked through the channels, not bothering to look in the human’s direction. So he liked to shag blokes. Big fucking surprise there. Not. The vampire sighed noisily.

“What exactly do you want me to do, Harris? Take you to dinner, buy you cocktails and then seduce my way into your hot and sweaty pants? You shag blokes. Big deal. Stock up on lube, work out a bit more and always use protection. That’s my advice, take it or leave it.”

Xander blinked. Ok.... Not quite what he expected. And obviously, that’s all there was - Spike’s attention was firmly fixed to the flickering TV screen. Xander’s ‘very important announcement’ hadn’t even been important enough for the normally acerbic demon to insult him about it. The disappointment the young man felt surprised and dismayed him in equal quantities. Not to mention confused. Shuffling unsurely from one foot to the other for a few seconds, he thought about leaving. What was this, some freaky vampire mating ritual? Or was Spike just playing hard to get? Ah, that was probably it. He was used to being in control and calling the shots. Ok then, if that was the way of it, Xander would just have to play along. He turned on his heels and slouched despondently towards the door of the crypt.

“I’ve never been able to fathom why some prick decided to use the term ‘gay’ to describe two blokes shaggin‘. It‘s not fuckin‘ gay, it‘s hard and horny and sometimes nasty. If you‘re lucky.”

Xander turned slowly, his expression wary. “What?”

The vampire shuffled in his seat. “You know. *Gay*. It means happy, right? What exactly does the word ‘happy’ have to do with being a fruitcake?”

“Spike, what the hell does fruit cake have to do with the word ‘happy‘?”

“Not fruit cake, you wanker. Fruitcake. It’s slang. It’s an expression that means being a poof.”

“Oh. Fruitcake. So that’s me, is it? A fruitcake?”

“Pretty much.”

“Great. But isn’t fruitcake also moist and delicious?”

The blonde turned in his chair and stared at Xander before laughing loudly, the sudden explosion of noise echoing around the crypt and making the young man flinch again.

“You might be many things, Harris. But I can tell you that moist and delicious you’re not.”

The young man’s eyebrows rose suddenly, and his hand crept to his trouser pocket where it rummaged around before returning again, clutching a rumpled piece of paper. He straightened the paper gently and scanned its contents quickly before waving it at the vampire.

Spike snorted. “What’s this? Waving the white flag? Somehow, I don’t think you’d like my terms of surrender, boy.”

Xander smiled gently. “Not exactly. I found it the other day inside a book. It’s a letter.”

The vampires blue eyes darkened in suspicion and he frowned. The young man continued.

“Yeah, one of the books that you gave me, remember? I was doing some research and it just... popped out and fell right in my lap. I’m pretty sure I was *supposed* to find it.”

Spike leapt from the couch with startling speed and grace, and stalked purposefully towards the young man, his hand outstretched.

“It’s mine. Give me the letter, Xander. Now.”

“Well I know it’s from you, stupid. Why else do you think I’d be here?” He studied Spike for a moment, his eyes sweeping over the familiar plains of high cheekbones and sensuous lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Spike?”

Spike stopped dead in his tracks directly in front of the human, his face crinkled in confusion.

“Tell you? Tell you what?”

Xander laughed. “Ok, ok, I know you just wouldn’t have came out and said it. Not considering our relationship up until now. Gods, I can hardly believe it - you, in love with me. But you could’ve let me know in other ways, you know. Come on, Spike. You’re a vampire, you can... well, you can smell stuff with your special batty-type senses and whatever...”

“Batty-type sen... What the bloody hell do you mean, batty-type? I’m not a fuckin’ bat!”

“I know, but you sense stuff. You can smell it if someone is frightened. Or horny.”

“Horny? You’re horny? Well what the bloody hell do you want me to do about it, poof? And what are you yakking on about, ‘in love‘?”

The young man stepped closer to the blonde and his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Yeah, I’m horny. Horny for you. But of course, you knew that. That’s why you wrote all those nice things about me... about *us*. That’s why you wrote me the letter, right?”

Spike’s mouth dropped open in realisation and he gulped. “Bloody hell. You read it. You read my bloody letter didn’t you?”

“Just like I was supposed to. Man, I couldn’t believe it at first. I mean... damn, these things just don’t happen to me. Not to Xander Harris. I‘ve been so used to living in Dumpsville that it‘s hard to believe someone actually *loves* me. But it was all there in your letter.”

Xander’s eyes softened and his voice shook just a little. “But I knew it, Spike. The things you said, it was written so beautifully. I knew when I read it that it was for me. From you, to me.”

The vampire’s eyes closed momentarily and pale fingers crept up and squeezed the bridge of his nose firmly. Eyes flickered open and he sighed. “Oh God. Listen, Xander. That letter... I ... It wasn’t... I never meant for *you* to see it.”

“It’s ok, don’t you see? You thought I’d laugh, right? Thought I’d reject you? You see I know. I know how Angel turned you away, how he hurt you, I ...”

Spike‘s eyes glinted dangerously and his lips tightened into a sneer. “You don’t know a bloody thing, Xander. Look, this has been a mistake, let’s just....”

“But I won’t. I won’t hurt you like he did, Spike. Hell, I know plenty about getting dumped. My middle name is ‘It’s Over’. You know... Xander ‘It’s Over’ Harris. This isn’t a mistake, Spike. It’s a chance! A chance for me, a chance for you. Christ Spike, everyone else is getting laid except us. Why shouldn’t we be together? I’ve read your letter; I know now how you feel about me.”

“Xander, stop. You don’t have the first fucking clue about how I feel, not about Angelus and *especially* not about you.”

“I *know*, Spike.” The young man waved the letter again. “It’s all here, in black and... Well, kinda grey. And for once in my life I’m gonna reach out and take what’s mine.”

There was a gasp, a muffled yelp and the letter drifted from Xander’s hand to the cold, dank floor of the crypt as he grabbed the vampire by the shoulders, pulled him closer and kissed him hard on the lips. When he opened his eyes, Spike’s were staring right back. Sure, thought Xander, he looked a little startled. Probably amazed that Xander had taken the initiative. The young man smiled.

“See? That wasn’t so difficult. And there’s lots more where that came from.”

The vampire stared at him for a long moment, then with a shrug he cupped his face and kissed him back passionately. They stood entwined, exploring each other’s mouths for awhile, hands wandering, groping, and silently pleading. The vampire slipped one hand underneath the waistband of Xander’s sweatpants and stroked the eager hard-on he found there, teasing the hard shaft beneath the cotton boxers with blunt nails and feeling it swell even more in his grip. The young man moaned in appreciation and nuzzled the blonde’s neck, his breath coming in short, sharp little gasps.

“Ummmmm... Like that, do you Xan?”

“Oh God... Oh God...”

Spike chuckled. “Not exactly, luv. But it’s your fantasy, go with it.”

“No! I mean... Oh God... I didn’t mean... Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

“I know what you meant. And I have to stop. Otherwise you’re gonna pop all over me, and we haven’t gotten to the good part yet.”

Spike reached up and grabbed Xander’s hair firmly, tugging him to his knees.

“Right then. Now we’ve got the niceties out of the way, let’s get down to business.” There was the soft sound of a zip being undone, and the vampire pushed his jeans over his slim hips with his other hand as best he could, freeing himself. Xander gasped and tentatively reached out to stroke the cool hardness bobbing in front of his face.

“Oh gods, Spike.... It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful...”

The blonde smirked down at him. “Show me, then. Show me how much you want it. Show me how much you need it.”

Xander’s hand caressed the full length of the vampire’s shaft, taking it lightly in the palm of his hand and pulling the silky foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head in agonising slowness. Spike’s hips rocked in time with the leisurely strokes and he moaned, his tongue snaking out to moisten dry lips as he watched the boy play with him.

“Ohhhh yeah, that’s the stuff, luv. Put it in your mouth, Xan. Suck it for me.”

The young man’s tongue flicked out and tickled the smooth head of Spike’s cock, and he lowered his lips to it, sliding it slowly inside his mouth. The vampire groaned loudly as his cool flesh was enveloped by the human’s hot, wet mouth. He gripped the dark hair tighter as Xander closed his mouth around his cock and began to suck, moving his mouth up and down over it and taking it as deeply into his throat as he dared without choking.

“Fuck... That’s it... Suck it harder... Yeah... “

Xander balanced himself on his knees and slid his other hand up the vampire’s thigh to cup his balls, squeezing and tugging gently.

Spike hissed in pleasure. “Jesus, Xander... Where the hell did you learn all this?”

“Mmmmumph ilms.”

The blonde smiled slyly. “Porno's, eh? Naughty boy. Were you thinking about me while you were watching? Yeah? Did you lie there, stroking that hot cock of yours and wank for me?”

Xander moaned and his mouth tightened on Spike’s shaft. The vampire hissed again.

“Uhhhh... That’s it Xan. Suck it nice ‘n hard for me. It’s all for you ... “

The dark haired boy moaned again, a finger slipping behind Spike’s balls, teasing and toying with the soft, sensitive flesh around his anus.

Spike slid himself from Xander’s now-aching mouth and pulled the young man to his feet. “Time for the main course, pet. Get your kit off.”

Wandering slowly to the bed he lay down and stroked himself slowly as he watched the dark haired human strip. He whistled in approval.

“Very nice, Xan. Maybe you are the moist and delicious type after all. Come on over and we’ll find out.”

Xander smiled shyly and slid onto the bed beside the blonde, reaching for him.

“Oi. Not so fast, peaches. Don’t go forgettin’ who’s top dog here. You get to go on your knees... I get to fuck you.”

A flicker of concern flashed in Xander’s eyes. “I... I’ve never... You know...”

“A virgin, eh? Mmmmmm... All the sweeter then. S’ok pet. Let old Spike worry about that, you just buckle up and enjoy the ride, ok?”

The young man smiled. “It’s ok, Spike. I trust you.”

For a moment, the vampire’s expression softened and he gazed deeply into Xander’s dark eyes. Then the moment passed and his lips tightened, cerulean eyes turning flint-hard and icy. With a dark chuckle, he reached under a pillow and produced a tube of lube, which he spread liberally over his cock. Then he took some on his fingers and motioned to Xander to get on his knees.

“You do want this, don’t you? You want me to make you scream? You want me to do the things I promised in the letter?”

Xander moaned. “Oh God, Spike. Please... I want you. I want *this*.”

“Never let it be said I’d disappoint. Now. Brace yourself against the headboard. And relax. Don’t fight it, otherwise it’ll hurt more.”

Slowly Spike worked a finger inside him, smiling at the whimpers of pain being replaced by a gasp of delight when the finger hit its mark. His free hand snaked around and stroked the human’s cock and then he added another finger, then another, stretching the young man and prodding inside to hit that magic spot that made him forget all about the pain. Pretty soon, Xander was rocking back onto the fingers and moaning with pleasure.

“You like that, Xan? Want some more?”

“Gods... Spike, it’s... *Fuck*... “

“Want me to fuck you? Want my big cock inside you, fillin’ you up and ringing your bell?”

“Uhhhhh.... Please... More, please... “

The vampire positioned himself behind the human, removing his fingers and placing the tip of his cock against the tight barrier of muscle that stood in the way of him getting inside. He slid one finger in the small entrance and stretched sideways, holding his cock firmly in his other hand and guiding into the opening, pushing with his hips. Beneath him, Xander whimpered.

Spike paused for a moment, reached out and gently stroked dark hair that shone like polished ebony in the dim light of the crypt. Then his eyes glazed over and for a moment he was a million miles away, in another time, another place. Centuries of memories flitted across his face, decades of abuse, hurting, and cruelty. Decades of loving, begging, needing. His eyes closed and he whispered hoarsely. “Oh God... Angelussss...“

Xander frowned in confusion. “What? What did you say?“

The vampire’s blue eyes snapped open and he gazed down at the boy. He blinked. His expression hardened and he growled.

“Oh, fuck this. I’m not in a Mills and Boon kinda place tonight. Just go with it. You’ll get used to the pain. Eventually. I know I did. Fuck, you might even enjoy it.”

He reached around Xander and clamped his hand firmly over the human’s mouth, then with a quick shove, Spike’s cock slid inside him, tearing the delicate flesh of the young man’s anus making him cry out in surprise and pain, the sound muffled behind the cool, strong hand.

“C’mon luv, you wanted this. You bloody begged for this.“

He gripped Xander’s thrashing hips and held on as he rode him hard and deep, the demon inside of him changing his features and making itself seen. Spike shut his eyes and lost himself in the boy’s heat, the slickness of his blood lubricating his throbbing cock, his mind far, far away in a darkened room deep inside of him where Angelus knelt before him helpless, where Angelus begged, where Angelus bled.

“You wanted this didn‘t ya ... Oh yeah... You were fucking panting for it, weren‘t ya peaches.”

Xander’s limbs trembled as he fought to keep himself on his knees, and he wept. He couldn’t understand why this was happening. Spike loved him; he’d said so in his letter. He’d told him in the most beautiful words how much he adored his dark eyes, how he could drown in his dark hair, how he worshipped... adored... yearned for him. Why was he hurting him so badly? Oh gods, he just wanted it to stop.

Above him, his tormentor plunged into him again and again. He could feel the heat of his blood around the vampires cool cock, felt as if he was being turned inside out. The pain came and went in waves, intensifying with every thrust inwards and he was sickened to his stomach, desperately trying to squirm free from Spike’s incredibly strong grip.

Spike writhed above him, eyes tight shut, snarling now, his voice rasping with pain, bitterness, hate...

“Come for me, Angelus.... C’mon you bastard... Come for me...”

It was then that Xander finally understood. Realization was indeed the mother of all bastards.


Spike was hurting him, *raping* him and calling him Angelus.

The letter hadn’t been meant for Xander after all. It wasn’t Xander that Spike yearned so deeply for. It had been meant for Spike’s Sire, for the love of his life who had dumped him, rejected him, hurt him time and time again. For someone with dark eyes and dark hair, just like Xander’s.

It had been meant for Angel. And the worst thing was that Spike had tried to tell him, but he hadn’t listened. And now....

Well, now he was in a world of shit. A world of pain and blood and... FUCK he didn’t think he could stand this agony much longer, he just wanted it to be over. Couldn’t understand why Spike was doing this. Couldn’t understand *how* Spike could hurt him. The chip... The fucking chip, it should’ve...

Ahhhh God ... Oh please stop. Just fucking stop. PLEASE! Oh fuck maybe Spike didn’t understand... Didn’t understand that he didn’t have to do this... Didn’t have to force him .... Didn’t have to hurt him.

But maybe he wanted to. Wanted to hurt Xander. Wanted to master Xander. Oh fucking whatever but please just make it. STOP.

Trying to squirm away. Trying to get that *thing* out of him. Trying to make the pain just stop and is this how it was? Is this how it was when Angelus...

FUCK. PLEASE. STOP. But it doesn’t, it goes on and on and he sees himself. Sees himself saying ‘I want this. I want you.’ Sees himself giving it to Spike on a fucking *plate* and is that why? Is that why the fuckers brains aren’t frying right now? But he hears that voice - harsh, cold, cruel and it’s ‘Angelus... Angelus...’ but he’s not Angelus. NOT, you bastard. NOT HIM. Not fucking Angelus. But he thinks maybe Spike *thinks* he is. And could it be that that’s why. Why this torture goes on and on, why he could scream and beg and bleed and it wouldn’t matter one *fuck* because it wasn’t Xander that the vampire felt beneath him, it was Angelus.

Finds he doesn’t much care really, he just wants it to stop. Can’t believe that it’s still happening to him, that he’s still screaming behind Spike’s hand, that he’s still begging, that some benevolent fucking god hasn’t put an end to this because bloody hell, he's praying fucking hard enough.

And now he was going to die. He was going to be bitten and drained if he didn’t snap Spike out of it, if he didn’t make the vampire realise that it was Xander he was hurting. Hell, maybe Spike didn’t *care* who it was, maybe Xander was just a vessel for his pain, someone to pound out his hurt and frustration into. Someone to slack his thirst. Literally. Oh why wouldn’t that fucking chip go off!

The vampire was close to his release now and the boy could hear him snarl and sob Angelus name like a mantra as he thrust wildly into Xander’s aching and bleeding body. Even through his pain, Xander could feel the ‘thing’ inside him swell and throb even more. Then there was a ragged, despairing howl, and white-hot agony stabbed through him as Spike bent over and sank his fangs into the meaty part of his shoulder.

The hand dropped from his mouth and Xander screamed, calling the vampire’s name again and again.

“No... Spike, don’t hurt me... Don’t hurt me. It’s me. Xander... It’s Xander, PLEASE don’t hurt me, Spike. Please. Don’t hurt me!”

Xander felt the vampire stiffen and for a millisecond the lips stopped their insistent sucking, and the pounding thrusts slowed and Xander knew... just knew that Spike had realised, that Spike was here, Spike was back, Spike knew it wasn‘t Angelus beneath him.

There was another liquid sob moaned through a mouthful of Xander’s blood and then suddenly screaming.... Screaming.... Screaming... Like a small animal caught in a hunter’s trap. High pitched. Shrieking. Deafening. The chip had activated, sending tiny shockwaves throughout his cerebral cortex and Spike was screaming, jerking, fangs ripped from Xander’s flesh. Blood spraying from Spike’s mouth as he raised his head, eyes bulging from their sockets in agony, eyes that were wet with tears of pain and maybe even regret.

Xander gasping for breath, heart pound. Pound. Pound. Hearing himself scream, sob, as if from a far away place and scrambling madly, trying to break away from Spike in a haze of pain. Gut. Wrenching. Terror. Tasting death. Death tasting him. Death fucking him. Trying to twist around, seeing Spike’s face a mask of pain and fear and teeth... huge, sharp, bloody teeth... Tasting his own blood as it splattered on his face and lips, stinging his eyes. Spike’s screams deafening him and his own blood drip. Drip. Drip. Dripping from serrated fangs that had entered. Defiled (his temple). Fangs that had tasted. Ripped. (Drink me)

Fed from.

(Me. Fed from...)


Spike pulled out of Xander, cold seed spilling from the boy’s abused body to drip mingled with blood, onto the bed. With a sob of relief, Xander fell onto his face, rolled over and off the bed and landed with a bone-crunching thud on the stone floor.

For a few seconds, the agonised wail of the vampire echoed horribly around the crypt.



................ ...

How many minutes passed by in this vacuum, he didn’t know. But after awhile Xander gritted his teeth against his own pain and rose to his knees. He could see Spike, still huddled on the floor in the foetal position, gripping his head and rocking to and fro. He could hear small whimpers interspersed with hoarse sobs coming from the vampire. Could smell the blood. The pain. Imagined he could smell Spike’s brains cooking in his skull. Could smell something else too. Sweat. His sweat. It stank - a high, rotten smell. Fear sweat.

The young man was suddenly bent in two as he retched in pain and fear and loathing - loathing for self, loathing for what Spike had done to him. His brain seemed to reel drunkenly inside his skull and he gripped his forehead with his hands and cried out loud in despair. All of the hurt inside him curdled and bubbled - hurt from now, hurt from the past, hurt that he knew the future held for him.

And he was so damn *sorry*... so damn angry, confused, hurt, bleeding, frightened vulnerable, helpless. Impotent. Couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop HIM, and oh. So. Fucking. Dirty. Dirty dirty Xander. Dirty naughty boy and now he’s been punished. Punished. Dirty fucking boy. Oh yes pet you play with fire and you get burned. Play with vamps you get bitten. Roll in the dirt you get dirty. Dirty boy. BAD boy. Bad Xander.

Rocking now. Numb. Can’t stop thinking, c sto stop rocking, can’t stop being a dirty boy. And he wants...

(Do you want’s it, my precious?)

Doesn’t know what.

There’s an emptiness. A black void. In his belly, in his ass, in his heart. (Did *Spike* leave that there?)

And he doesn’t know what he wants, or what he feels.


‘Never said it was sunshine
But you took it all of the time...’

The whining is so loud, so *piercing* that he knows his eardrums must have burst. Pain taking up permanent residence in his body, demon screaming and clawing inside of him and baying for blood... more blood... death and night and blood.

Smells the boy. Stinking of fear, or is that him? Both.

Can’t understand how it got to this. Can’t understand when Xander became Angelus. When ‘please’ became ‘stop‘. When a good shag became raping and biting and the fucking chip started zapping and Angelus was Xander again. Can’t understand why it didn’t fucking dust him this time.

But oh, the pain. White-hot, polar-cold, purple and pink and blue behind his eyes. No, not behind. Eyes open. Oh fuck, am I always gonna see in these colours after this?

Muscles cramping, and he feels blood seep from his ass, his ears, his nose. Every tooth feeling like some bastard is drilling into the nerve without the safety net of Novocain. And his head... Oh fuck, that heavy globe of agony that’s currently vibrating above his shoulders and balancing precariously, or so he believes, on his neck. He was ready to pray to any dark god listening that it would just fucking explode and be done with it.

Gut spasms and a torrent of dead blood expels itself from his stomach and gouts from his mouth like some macabre fountain of death. Groans, retches, again and again. Vomiting over himself like some fucking drunk on a jag. But he can’t move. Afraid to move. And feels it cool, curdle, clot, stick to his skin like Crazy Goo.

Hears the boy vomit. (Here‘s one I made earlier)

Never wanted to make him sick. Never wanted to make him hurt. Never wanted to make him dead.

Hears the boy howl.

Ok, so eardrums not shot.

Hears him howl. (I made this)

Never wanted to do that. Never wanted him to howl. Wanted him to bark, but never howl.

And he’s sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.

Didn’t mean, never meant, couldn’t stop. Lost myself, pet.

Can’t understand why it didn’t fucking dust him.

Can sure as fuck understand why he wishes it did.

Knows Xander is rocking. Knows Xander is thinking. Smells the fear sweat, the blood. Can almost *hear* Xander blame himself. Hate himself. Knows if he could he would hurt himself. As if Spike didn’t hurt him enough. But that hurt isn’t pure, not like self-hurt. Self-hurt purges. Cleanses. Kills all known germs. Self-hurt *erases*. And Spike should know, because he feels like it’s erasing him.

At sometime during the act, Xander *became* Angelus, and Spike punished him. But in that Becoming, Xander also became Spike - Spike being hurt, Spike loving and not being loved in return, Spike taking it up the ass the hard way...

History repeating itself. Erasure has begun. But Spike doesn’t want that. Spike wants to be Spike. Wants Xander to be Xander. Wants to turn back time and undo it.


(Did you never love me then, Angelus?)


Hears Spike screaming again, but this time it’s different...

Words. Screaming words.

Finds himself answering, unable to stop. Voice unrecognisable, dry, harsh, but undeniably desperate.


Pregnant pause, which delivers in due course...

“What? I ... What, Xander?”

The boy sits up straight. Still some dignity there, I see. Fucker hasn’t buggered it all out of him then.

“Why did you do that Spike? Why did you...?’

Gasp. V bre breaks slightly beneath the onslaught of fresh, warm tears.

“... Hurt me, Spike. You didn’t have to do that. You hurt me so bad and I ...”

“Oh Xan. Oh fuck oh fuck oh Xan. It wasn’t you; it wasn’t you it was hi...”


“No, it was him. It’s always him. I ...”

“You didn’t give a shit, did you? You fucking bastard, you didn’t give a shit about me. You used me. You ... You ...”

“NO! No, Xan. Don’t you understand? This was never about you!”

“I know. And that’s what fucking hurts the most. I. Loved. You. I wanted it to be about me. Not the hurting - wanted the touching, the se ... se...

Can‘t quite bring himself to say the word.

“I. Wanted. You. To. Love. Me. You sick fuck.”


They could hear each other.

Xander breathing.

Spike trying to move, trying to at least get up on one elbow, ‘cause then he could see. See if Xander was in as bad a shape as Spike *thought* he was. Hoped he wasn’t.

A deep sigh drifted towards Xander’s ears.

“God, I don’t hate you Xan. I don’t even ‘not like’ you. I’m not sure how I feel about you, to be honest. Never given it much thought. Except for your ass. I’ve thought a lot about your ass.”

“You’ve thought a lot about my ass. You’ve raped me, bitten me, damn near *killed* me and all you can say is ‘I’ve thought about your *ass*?’ “

“I didn’t rape you.”

“Really? So that’s why I’m bruised and bleeding and feeling like I’ll never be fucking clean again is it? What, this is your way of saying it with flowers? Well fuck, Spike... It sure felt like rape to me.”

“Oh, I get it. In fuckin’ Xander Land the words ‘Oh please, fuck me Spike’ mean ‘No’? Is that it? Well excuse me for not having my fucking universal translator switched on. I misunderstood the situation obviously. You know... The situation where *you* came to *my* crypt, told me you were gay and horny. Then practically threw yourself on me. You remember that situation Xander? Or am I coming down with premature vampire senility?”

“You don’t get it, do you? You put your hand over my mouth and then you ...”

“I *gave* you what you’d been begging for, boy. You wanted to fuck me. I’m a vampire. You and I both know that you’ve read all the books on vampires that you can get your hot little hands on. Including the ones that the Watcher thinks he’s got hidden behind that crate of Tanis root in the Magic Shop storeroom. You know what’s what Xan, don’t pretend you don’t. We get off on pain. We like it rough. There’s no Barry White moment with vamps... Oh you know all of this, so why am I torturing myself? You came, you saw, you got fucked. I admit, I lost it a bit and sank the old fangs in, but you’re alive aren’t you? This could’ve bloody well dusted me, did you think about *that* at all?”

“What the FUCK are you talking about? I thought it took a stake... Don’t you fucking *dare* try to make me feel sorry for you!”

“Well who’s to say? I’m throwing up my fucking innards, here. What’s that, a gentle pat on the head? I still could die, ya know. My fucking head could’ve exploded. In fact it still might. That’s not to say it was your fault. It was, but it was mine too. I fucked up, Xan. I never meant to hurt you. Well I did. But not *hurt* hurt, you know? Ahhhhh fuck.....” He hissed in pain.

“Are you... Is it bad? Are you hurt bad?”

Hears agonised groans, more retching and it’s like Spike’s trying to regurgitate a fucking *moose* or something. It’s a guttural, hideous sound and Xander hugs himself, angry... no furious with Spike for daring to make him feel the *slightest* bit sorry for this, the slightest bit responsible for this, but he supposes that he is.

And he is. Sorry. Responsible. But he’s still fucking angry too. And he doesn’t know which emotion to hold onto the tightest. All he *does* know is he has to hold onto something, and it may as well be one or the other.

But the minutes pass and Spike is silent again and Xander still can’t decide. How. To. Feel. He’s somewhat surprised that he actually feels anything after all of this. Comfortably numb would’ve been nice.

More minutes and Spike is still silent. Xander fidgets. Squints. Can’t see anything at all past the bed and he wonders... wonders why he just doesn’t get up and *look*, because he’s capable of movement after all. Won’t be capable of a decent crap for awhile, but he can walk. Carefully. And so he pulls himself to his feet, belly ns fes feeling like a nest of vipers coiling inside of him. Ignores the flare of pain and the trickle of blood and semen tickling it’s way down his thigh. Shuffles slowly towards where he thinks Spike is. Afraid there’ll be nothing but a pile of dust. Afraid and angry at how that makes him feel. And he’s still so angry, but underneath it all there’s that dirty boy. The dirty boy whose fault it is and who, against every common sensibility, still loves that fucking arsehole vampire.



“Spike? Are you...”?

“Alive? Just afuckingbout.”


“Oh God!”

Knees give way and Xander slides to the floor on his ass, wincing at the sharp bolt of pain. Legs trembling and weak. And he can see Spike now and it’s ...

Oh what a fucking nightmare. It’s like someone has doused him in blood... different hues, some bright scarlet where it’s still wet, some black and evil looking where it’s clotted and curdled. And it seems to be coming out of the vamp *everywhere*, he’s lying in it, covered in it, he’s bleeding it and...

“Oh God... Oh God...”

It’s the smell. It’s worse than anything Xander could even have imagined. Not in all his demon killing days had he ever smelt anything as vile, as putrid, as...

Retching again himself, scrambling back on his haunches to escape the puddle emanating from Spike, to avoid throwing up all over himself or the vampire. Retching, then dry heaving and unbelievably he’s chuckling. The bastard vampire is chuckling and it’s just so fucking ludicrous. Surreal and nightmarish and fucking ludicrous. He stares at Spike, mouth dropping open in surprise and he’s....


This is just...

He’s so. Fucking. Angry.

How can that bastard lie there and laugh when Xander is falling to pieces, when Xander is perilously close to just fucking dusting him *right now*, when they’re both stinking and injured and covered in bodily fluids.

But he does. Even as tears of pain roll from his eyes, Spike’s head falls back and he’s not chuckling now, no, he’s laughing. Hard. Loud. And suddenly, inexplicably, so is Xander. And it’s like all of this something, this tension, this pain... it’s like it gathers itself in a ball and just explodes and he’s crying, they’re both crying... laughing, guffawing, sobbing. And in between it all there’s words. Sounds like... Bastard. Fuck. Hurt. Blame. Hate. And then ever so quietly. Love.

And Spike’s staring at him now. Like he’s some fucking Martian or has suddenly sprouted horns. There’s a shit load of emotion in his eyes, his face. Disbelief. Suspicion. Pain.

Xander’s not laughing anymore either. There’s just so much, it’s so huge, so painful, so....

How the fuck can he still love this... this fucking...

“How, Xan? How can you say that? How can you think you want me after what’s happened here?”

“I didn’t say I wanted you.”

Confusion vies with pain for dominance of expression and wins. “But you just said...”

“I said that I loved you. Doesn’t mean I want you. Doesn’t mean I even *like* you. In fact, Spike. I fucking hate you. I hate what's happened. I hate how you make me feel. I hate that Angelus hurt you so bad. I hate that you hurt me so bad. I hate being afraid of you. I hate being afraid when I thought you’d turned to dust five minutes ago. I hate that I’m stupid enough and weak enough to still love you even after all this.”

“Well join the fucking club, mate. Now you know how I’ve felt for the last fucking couple of centuries.”

Xander flinched a little. “So you really loved him that much?”

“I thought I did. I must have. I’ve been using it like a fucking crutch for just about forever.”

“Ummm... A crutch is something that supports you, Spike. This isn’t a crutch. This is a dead weight dragging you down.”

Spike stared at him steadily. “Then I suppose you’ve just answered your own riddle, Xander. What are you gonna do now? Do you stake me? Do you walk out of here, or do you tie the dead weight around your ankle and flounder for the rest of your fucking miserable life?”

Xander closed his eyes. Sighed. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Spike sighed, and winced in pain.

“Fuck, Xander. What do you want me to say to you? I’m sorry. I’m sorry that things got so fucked up. And I’m sorry that I don’t know if I can give you what you need. I can’t give you what you deserve, that’s for sure. ”

Xander’s eyes opened. “I suppose I could save myself a shit load of heartache if I just staked your sorry ass right now.”

Spike’s eyebrows did a little dance. “Eh?”

Hauling himself from the floor, Xander’s eyes scanned the room until he found what he wanted. Moving as quickly as his pain would allow him, he picked up Spike’s duster from where it lay draped over a chair, plunged his hand deep into a pocket and retrieved a stake. He noted with satisfaction the barely audible intake of breath from Spike’s direction. He heard wet scuffles as the vampire attempted to put a little distance between himself and Xander.

He turned.

“You said it yourself. Do I stake you, do I leave or do I forgive you and become your own personal fuck-toy. I dunno... What do you say, Spikey boy? Name that tune. ‘Blowing in the Wind‘? ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go‘? Or maybe ‘Take me, I’m Yours’. All oldies, but goodies.”

“Xander... Now hold on. Don’t be doing something you’ll regret...”

“Regret? You. Are talking to *me*. About REGRET?”

“Yeah... No.... Oh fuck...”

Xander strode across the room quickly, mind screaming to stop. Stop. Stop this madness but he can’t. He can’t because he’s so fucking angry. So fucking confused. So fucking *hurt* and he just wants to make Spike understand. Wants to make Spike open his fucking eyes and see. See Xander. See Xander run. See Xander’s pain. Ignoring the pool of filth, ignoring pain, ignoring everything he shoves Spike onto his back and quickly straddles him, holding the point of the stake over his heart. His cold fucking heart. His treacherous heart that Xander wants to own.

Eyes wide, body quivering all over, spittle flying as he spits out the words, jabbing the vampire with the stake.

“You wanna die, Spike? You want this one-way ticket to Hell I got for ya here? Huh?”

“No. Xander... Don’t. Please. Don’t.” Last word croaked from trembling lips.

“How does it feel, huh dead boy? How does it feel to be *beneath* me? How does it feel to be totally at my fucking mercy?”

But no, it’s all going wrong again. Enjoys the sudden terror in the vampires eyes. Enjoys the feeling of being in control. But he’s getting hard. He can’t fucking believe it, he’s hard and horny even through the anger and the pain and before he knows it, before he can even think about stopping he’s pulling Spike’s legs up over his shoulders. He’s ignoring the whimpers of pain, frantically groping, probing with his fingers. Not really sure what the hell he’s doing, ‘cause he’s never fucked a guy before and he’s....

Oh. God. Oh sweet merciful fucking... His fingers slide past the stubborn muscle and into Spike. He giggles manically; his mind singing ‘I’ve got my finger in Spike’s ass... I’ve got my finger in Spike’s ass...’

And it’s cool. Not cold, cool. And tight. Tighttighttighttight. And how the hell is he gonna get his cock in there? He pulls the finger out, grabs his cock, points and hopes but it keeps sliding away and can’t. Get. In. He’s grunting now. Grunting in frustration and Spike has this look on this face that he can’t quite read, which is really weird ‘cause he figured that by *now* the vamp would be struggling a bit, maybe chanting ‘no, no, no’ but he’s not he’s just *looking* at Xander with those big fucking beautiful blue eyes and he’s so delicious, so completely gorgeous, even covered with blood and puke. Mouth is half-open and Xander wants that mouth so he leans over and DAMN... Cock slips again and he moans in frustration and then...

A hand. A cool hand, gripping his cock, leading it, slim hips pushing forward slightly as Spike helps impale himself on Xander and it’s....


In. He’s in, and it’s guhhhhhh.... Tight. Oh tight. Oh fuck. Oh good... So good so good so....

Steals a look at Spike and he’s looking back, cerulean eyes glazed with lust, biting his lip ‘cause it’s just bound to hurt and he’s whimpering. Not a bad whimper, a good whimper, little moans making Xander even harder and he’s thrusting deep inside Spike now and he rolls his hips just a little and...

Ohhhhh... Spike’s mouth makes this ooooh of pleasure, then his tongue snakes out and runs along his bottom lip. Eyes closed now, panting a little, moaning a lot and it’s...

“Yeah... Oh fuck, yeah... Xander... Xander... “

Not Angelus, oh no. Not *this* time. This time Spike *knows* who’s fucking him. This time it’s all about Xander. Xander inside him, Xander above him, Xander making him come and that makes him want to weep, makes it so sweet, makes it...


Spike touching himself. Stroking himself and Xander doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more erotic. Doesn’t think he can *be* any more turned on.

And seeing Spike moan his name, having Spike beneath him, opened up to him, taking pleasure from him is just so exquisitely, agonisingly fucking *sexy* and he’s coming... coming hard... hears himself moaning ‘Spike. Spike. Spike’ over and over. Then he figures he has to do it. Has to return the *bite* - leans over, sinks his teeth fast and hard into the vampire, feels the skin seem to pop under his blunt teeth, feels a rush of luke-warm, coppery blood flood his mouth and Spike cries out...

“Yes. Oh please... Oh yesssss...“

Multi-coloured fireworks going off behind Xander’s tight shut eyes and the echo of his moans, of Spike’s moans bouncing around inside his head and they ride it out; ride out their orgasms together and he’s sinking on top of Spike, breathless, numb, spent. Sleep pretty much the only thing on his mind.

After a moment he rolls off the vampire and rises wearily to his knees, so whacked out, so exhausted. Gazes down on Spike who’s still panting, eyes half shut. Leans over and how the *fuck* he ever did it will remain forever a mystery to him, but he picks Spike up and carries him to the bed. Pulls back the cover, drops him in and climbs in himself. Doesn’t want to think. Just wants to sleep.

He’s nearly there, nearly drifted off, awake just enough to feel the cool arm encircle him, feel smooth skin and sharp cheekbone press against his chest and he does the only thing he‘s capable of doing right now. He gathers the blonde in his arms.

He wonders then. Wonders where the hell they go from here. But right now it doesn’t seem to matter all that much. He’s filthy, in pain, exhausted. But he’s here. Spike’s here. He remembers fleetingly something Spike said once about demon love.

‘It’s black, it’s painful and it’s nasty. But it’s pure.’

He supposes in a way that it is.

And at the end of the day...

No one ever said the afterglow would be warm.


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