All I Need...
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
40
Views:
14,225
Reviews:
137
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
40
Views:
14,225
Reviews:
137
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Part 10
* * * * * * * * *
Part 10
His head was throbbing. That was the first thing he noticed when he struggled to wakefulness.
His head was throbbing and he was… out of the trees.
One bleary eye cracked, closing again when he saw that he was somehow back in his room.
Right… Alex must have done that. Brought him back and gotten him under cover after he’d… knocked himself out like a great bloody ponce.
The bloke had apparently even closed the curtains over the door to the balcony, or had he done that himself the night before?
He didn’t know. Didn’t care, if the truth be known. He hadn’t burst into flames while out and that was the important thing.
Well, that and the fact that he and Alex had… what?
Spike groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow as he remembered.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell!” he screamed into the soft bag of feathers, fist slamming against the mattress harshly.
He hit it again, just on general principles, although it didn’t help much. It had been a rough couple days, after all. He’d realized he wanted Xander—the real Xander—and had immediately gone off and…
“Sod all, against a tree?” he snarled, turning fitfully onto his back, one forearm landing across his eyes, “An’ not even with th’ bloke himself but some bleedin’ impostor?”
Just his luck, he figured. Finally getting a clue of what he really wanted and he had to go and fuck it up, first thing. Hell, even if he somehow managed to find Harris now he’d be too bloody ashamed of himself to ever give the bloke more than a friendly glance. His soul would see to that.
Of course, the real Harris was straight as a fucking arrow, so maybe it didn’t matter a whit and at least that thought, while depressing in and of itself, made him feel a bit better.
Yeah, in the end he’d lost nothing and had gained at least some dream-fodder for later. He could imagine his Xan would be that wild, that… strong. And since he’d never know for real, it would do.
Of course, that left him with the question of what to say to Alex when he ran into the bloke again. “Thanks for the almost-shag, won’t be doing that again’ didn’t seem like the sort of thing the creature would appreciate.
Hell, his demon didn’t appreciate it either. It wanted nothing more than to go find the bloke, toss him down and…
Spike groaned again, the sound holding less pain and more unwilling arousal than anything else.
He didn’t want to desire Alex, but… parts of him did.
Maybe he’d just hide in his room and sneak off at sunset. It was an idea, after all.
Unfortunately, it was an idea that he couldn’t really live with. He might be a lot of things, but ‘coward’ wasn’t one of them.
That decision made, he struggled up from the bed and grabbed a few bags of blood from the cooler and set them in the bathroom sink, running warm water over them to take the chill off. He’d need to get more later; he was almost out.
* * * * *
He’d slept long and hard once he’d gotten back to his own room and woken—unsurprisingly—sporting a demanding erection. Then again, he thought maybe the beast was to blame for that. He could feel it coiled deep inside him, dreaming about Will and the night before and while Xander had to admit that the way the blond had reacted to his advances had been pretty damned hot, he still couldn’t get past the fact that it was Will, not Spike, and…
He sighed, padding quickly into the bathroom. Did it really matter, anyway? Spike was dead.
Fingers that remembered gripping tight, hard butt cheeks turned knobs, starting hot water flowing from the shower head as a soft growl left his lips.
Spike was dead, he told himself again, ignoring the odd emptiness the admission created in the pit of his stomach, and even if he weren’t, well… they might have been friends once, or almost friends, but the vampire never would have wanted him. Not the zeppo, the donut buy, the loser. Christ, he’d never even seen a single sign of Spike being interested in guys sexually, no matter what Giles’ books had said about him and Angelus, back in the day.
So ultimately, Xander realized, Spike wasn’t a part of the equation and if last night were any indication, Will definitely was… both interested and available, really. Assuming the way he’d attacked him hadn’t completely put him off.
He was sure that had been the last thing the… whatever he was… had expected when he’d followed him into the trees. Still…
He could spend time with the blond, get to know him better, maybe see where whatever they’d started was going… because as much as he hated to admit it, there was something there, and not just as far as the hyena was concerned.
He sighed deeply, hot water pounding down on his head, stinging against his skin. He could do those things, but he wouldn’t. It was just too… strange. Will looked exactly like Spike and there was no way he could stop expecting the blond to be Spike and… that wasn’t fair to either one of them, was it?
No, it would never work. Not even close.
“Shit,” he sighed, turning off the water and stepping from the tub.
He wrapped a towel around his hips and wandered into the main room, mind turning over all the things he could possibly say to Will. He still needed to get him to stop wearing that face, after all, and… but maybe the guy wasn’t too attached to it. Maybe he wouldn’t mind finding another to wear.
“Shit,” Xander said again, wishing for just a moment that he was the smart one. Willow would have known exactly what to do, after all.
* * * * *
Call the bloke.
Yeah, Spike could picture that conversation. ‘Hey, Alex mate… still want ta do that tour thing? Or would ya rather just get with th’ shaggin’?’ He snorted. No. No shagging the look-alike.
Even better, ‘Look, bloke. Had fun last night but ya need ta stop lookin’ like bloody Xander Harris, yah? Nah, think it looks a treat on ya but th’ real bloke wouldn’t appreciate it.’
“Right. An’ then he finds out I know he’s not my Xan an’ he… what? Runs away? Changes his face? Not bloody likely. More likely ta try killin’ me ta protect himself.”
He spared a quick glance at the clock, frowning slightly. Almost half an hour past the time he usually met Alex down in the bar and he still didn’t know what to say, but… wouldn’t do to give the bloke the idea that he was avoiding him… no matter how much he wanted to do just that.
He frowned again, deeper, and left his room. He’d figure out what to say when he saw the git.
He hoped so, anyway.
* * * * *
As it turned out, all his worrying and trying to find the right words to explain the need to look like someone not-Xander was for nothing because the prat wasn’t even there yet, and wasn’t that a blow to the old ego?
He’d thought their night in the trees had been good for the both of them but apparently Alex didn’t want to see him at all.
His brow was slightly furrowed as he nodded to the bartender for his usual, only to furrow more when the beer was joined on the bar by a white envelope. “What’s this, then?”
The man shrugged. “Your friend asked me to give that to you if you came in tonight. I didn’t ask questions.”
Spike sipped his beer slowly, turning the envelope over and over in his hand. Hell, that Alex was really good. He’d even mastered the sloppy and slightly jagged handwriting of the original Xander on the envelope.
He wasn’t entirely sure of why he felt nervous, but he did. He stared at the envelope for a while longer, finishing his first beer and starting on another before finally shaking his head and slipping one finger under the flap, ripping paper carefully to get to what was inside.
Dear Will, he read,
I was going to do this in person but somehow I just can’t. I don’t want to see the look on your face when you hear this. I really, really don’t.
Spike snorted, stomach clenching as he read on.
I’m sorry, Will. I know we. Well, last night. I mean.
Christ, Okay.
Remember that first night we met? I said something about you looking familiar and I know you probably think it was a line or something but it wasn’t. And it wasn’t just the hair.
You do look familiar. You are familiar.
You look like someone I used to know and I don’t mean just kind of, okay? You’re him, right down to that little freckle-mole thing on your cheek. You even share some of his traits. Like the snarkiness, for instance, and the sarcasm.
He was my friend, Will, and he died and I don’t have any idea of why you’re walking around looking just like him.
I came here to find out. That was my job. My last job for the people I’ve been working for.
Guess I failed, huh? Because I still have no idea of why you stole Spike’s face.
“Spike?” he gasped, setting his bottle down before he could shatter it, “He said… Spike?”
He felt that clenching in his stomach become a sharp, deep pain that spread quickly throughout the rest of him, eyes still locked on the paper in his hand.
Look, Will, I don’t think you’re a bad… whatever you are. I doubt that you’re going to do anything really evil while you look like him, but like I said, he was my friend and after last night I guess you know there were some other, unresolved emotions there too.
Of course, I didn’t know that until a few days ago myself, so…. Anyway. You look like Spike. Kind of act like him too.
But Spike died in Sunnydale. He died a hero, okay? And that deserves some respect.
I know I don’t have any right to ask you for favors, but please, please stop looking like Spike. It’s upsetting to more people than you know and…
Shit, I really suck at this. How sad is it that this is the tenth time I’ve tried to write this?
“Pretty bloody sad,” Spike whispered, “Pathetic, even…”
Look, Will. I like you. I do. Last night never would have happened if I didn’t, no matter what you looked like. And maybe if we run into each other again we can see whether we suit each other.
What do you really look like? I guess it doesn’t matter, right? Maybe you’ll surprise me someday.
It was nice knowing you. Nice getting to know you as much as I did.
Take care of yourself, Will. And please… change your face. For me, but also for you. Spike might be a dangerous guy to look like in some parts.
Fondly,
Xander (Alex)
The vampire blinked, starting at the beginning of the letter again as he tried to grasp exactly how things could have gone so horribly wrong and how Alex could be Xander and have two eyes and smell like… wilderness and animal and strength and sex… always sex, though he’d just realized that part the night before.
“B-bloody… hell…”
* * * * *
(A/N: Thanks to Fenris Mourningstar, TheShadowCat, nulinka & RedSharpie (welcome back! And yes, I'm still working on part 4 of the 'Getting to Know You' series... I'm taking a wee break but will have something ready to post soon. :)) for the lovely reviews. So glad you're enjoying! More soon.)
Part 10
His head was throbbing. That was the first thing he noticed when he struggled to wakefulness.
His head was throbbing and he was… out of the trees.
One bleary eye cracked, closing again when he saw that he was somehow back in his room.
Right… Alex must have done that. Brought him back and gotten him under cover after he’d… knocked himself out like a great bloody ponce.
The bloke had apparently even closed the curtains over the door to the balcony, or had he done that himself the night before?
He didn’t know. Didn’t care, if the truth be known. He hadn’t burst into flames while out and that was the important thing.
Well, that and the fact that he and Alex had… what?
Spike groaned and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow as he remembered.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell!” he screamed into the soft bag of feathers, fist slamming against the mattress harshly.
He hit it again, just on general principles, although it didn’t help much. It had been a rough couple days, after all. He’d realized he wanted Xander—the real Xander—and had immediately gone off and…
“Sod all, against a tree?” he snarled, turning fitfully onto his back, one forearm landing across his eyes, “An’ not even with th’ bloke himself but some bleedin’ impostor?”
Just his luck, he figured. Finally getting a clue of what he really wanted and he had to go and fuck it up, first thing. Hell, even if he somehow managed to find Harris now he’d be too bloody ashamed of himself to ever give the bloke more than a friendly glance. His soul would see to that.
Of course, the real Harris was straight as a fucking arrow, so maybe it didn’t matter a whit and at least that thought, while depressing in and of itself, made him feel a bit better.
Yeah, in the end he’d lost nothing and had gained at least some dream-fodder for later. He could imagine his Xan would be that wild, that… strong. And since he’d never know for real, it would do.
Of course, that left him with the question of what to say to Alex when he ran into the bloke again. “Thanks for the almost-shag, won’t be doing that again’ didn’t seem like the sort of thing the creature would appreciate.
Hell, his demon didn’t appreciate it either. It wanted nothing more than to go find the bloke, toss him down and…
Spike groaned again, the sound holding less pain and more unwilling arousal than anything else.
He didn’t want to desire Alex, but… parts of him did.
Maybe he’d just hide in his room and sneak off at sunset. It was an idea, after all.
Unfortunately, it was an idea that he couldn’t really live with. He might be a lot of things, but ‘coward’ wasn’t one of them.
That decision made, he struggled up from the bed and grabbed a few bags of blood from the cooler and set them in the bathroom sink, running warm water over them to take the chill off. He’d need to get more later; he was almost out.
* * * * *
He’d slept long and hard once he’d gotten back to his own room and woken—unsurprisingly—sporting a demanding erection. Then again, he thought maybe the beast was to blame for that. He could feel it coiled deep inside him, dreaming about Will and the night before and while Xander had to admit that the way the blond had reacted to his advances had been pretty damned hot, he still couldn’t get past the fact that it was Will, not Spike, and…
He sighed, padding quickly into the bathroom. Did it really matter, anyway? Spike was dead.
Fingers that remembered gripping tight, hard butt cheeks turned knobs, starting hot water flowing from the shower head as a soft growl left his lips.
Spike was dead, he told himself again, ignoring the odd emptiness the admission created in the pit of his stomach, and even if he weren’t, well… they might have been friends once, or almost friends, but the vampire never would have wanted him. Not the zeppo, the donut buy, the loser. Christ, he’d never even seen a single sign of Spike being interested in guys sexually, no matter what Giles’ books had said about him and Angelus, back in the day.
So ultimately, Xander realized, Spike wasn’t a part of the equation and if last night were any indication, Will definitely was… both interested and available, really. Assuming the way he’d attacked him hadn’t completely put him off.
He was sure that had been the last thing the… whatever he was… had expected when he’d followed him into the trees. Still…
He could spend time with the blond, get to know him better, maybe see where whatever they’d started was going… because as much as he hated to admit it, there was something there, and not just as far as the hyena was concerned.
He sighed deeply, hot water pounding down on his head, stinging against his skin. He could do those things, but he wouldn’t. It was just too… strange. Will looked exactly like Spike and there was no way he could stop expecting the blond to be Spike and… that wasn’t fair to either one of them, was it?
No, it would never work. Not even close.
“Shit,” he sighed, turning off the water and stepping from the tub.
He wrapped a towel around his hips and wandered into the main room, mind turning over all the things he could possibly say to Will. He still needed to get him to stop wearing that face, after all, and… but maybe the guy wasn’t too attached to it. Maybe he wouldn’t mind finding another to wear.
“Shit,” Xander said again, wishing for just a moment that he was the smart one. Willow would have known exactly what to do, after all.
* * * * *
Call the bloke.
Yeah, Spike could picture that conversation. ‘Hey, Alex mate… still want ta do that tour thing? Or would ya rather just get with th’ shaggin’?’ He snorted. No. No shagging the look-alike.
Even better, ‘Look, bloke. Had fun last night but ya need ta stop lookin’ like bloody Xander Harris, yah? Nah, think it looks a treat on ya but th’ real bloke wouldn’t appreciate it.’
“Right. An’ then he finds out I know he’s not my Xan an’ he… what? Runs away? Changes his face? Not bloody likely. More likely ta try killin’ me ta protect himself.”
He spared a quick glance at the clock, frowning slightly. Almost half an hour past the time he usually met Alex down in the bar and he still didn’t know what to say, but… wouldn’t do to give the bloke the idea that he was avoiding him… no matter how much he wanted to do just that.
He frowned again, deeper, and left his room. He’d figure out what to say when he saw the git.
He hoped so, anyway.
* * * * *
As it turned out, all his worrying and trying to find the right words to explain the need to look like someone not-Xander was for nothing because the prat wasn’t even there yet, and wasn’t that a blow to the old ego?
He’d thought their night in the trees had been good for the both of them but apparently Alex didn’t want to see him at all.
His brow was slightly furrowed as he nodded to the bartender for his usual, only to furrow more when the beer was joined on the bar by a white envelope. “What’s this, then?”
The man shrugged. “Your friend asked me to give that to you if you came in tonight. I didn’t ask questions.”
Spike sipped his beer slowly, turning the envelope over and over in his hand. Hell, that Alex was really good. He’d even mastered the sloppy and slightly jagged handwriting of the original Xander on the envelope.
He wasn’t entirely sure of why he felt nervous, but he did. He stared at the envelope for a while longer, finishing his first beer and starting on another before finally shaking his head and slipping one finger under the flap, ripping paper carefully to get to what was inside.
Dear Will, he read,
I was going to do this in person but somehow I just can’t. I don’t want to see the look on your face when you hear this. I really, really don’t.
Spike snorted, stomach clenching as he read on.
I’m sorry, Will. I know we. Well, last night. I mean.
Christ, Okay.
Remember that first night we met? I said something about you looking familiar and I know you probably think it was a line or something but it wasn’t. And it wasn’t just the hair.
You do look familiar. You are familiar.
You look like someone I used to know and I don’t mean just kind of, okay? You’re him, right down to that little freckle-mole thing on your cheek. You even share some of his traits. Like the snarkiness, for instance, and the sarcasm.
He was my friend, Will, and he died and I don’t have any idea of why you’re walking around looking just like him.
I came here to find out. That was my job. My last job for the people I’ve been working for.
Guess I failed, huh? Because I still have no idea of why you stole Spike’s face.
“Spike?” he gasped, setting his bottle down before he could shatter it, “He said… Spike?”
He felt that clenching in his stomach become a sharp, deep pain that spread quickly throughout the rest of him, eyes still locked on the paper in his hand.
Look, Will, I don’t think you’re a bad… whatever you are. I doubt that you’re going to do anything really evil while you look like him, but like I said, he was my friend and after last night I guess you know there were some other, unresolved emotions there too.
Of course, I didn’t know that until a few days ago myself, so…. Anyway. You look like Spike. Kind of act like him too.
But Spike died in Sunnydale. He died a hero, okay? And that deserves some respect.
I know I don’t have any right to ask you for favors, but please, please stop looking like Spike. It’s upsetting to more people than you know and…
Shit, I really suck at this. How sad is it that this is the tenth time I’ve tried to write this?
“Pretty bloody sad,” Spike whispered, “Pathetic, even…”
Look, Will. I like you. I do. Last night never would have happened if I didn’t, no matter what you looked like. And maybe if we run into each other again we can see whether we suit each other.
What do you really look like? I guess it doesn’t matter, right? Maybe you’ll surprise me someday.
It was nice knowing you. Nice getting to know you as much as I did.
Take care of yourself, Will. And please… change your face. For me, but also for you. Spike might be a dangerous guy to look like in some parts.
Fondly,
Xander (Alex)
The vampire blinked, starting at the beginning of the letter again as he tried to grasp exactly how things could have gone so horribly wrong and how Alex could be Xander and have two eyes and smell like… wilderness and animal and strength and sex… always sex, though he’d just realized that part the night before.
“B-bloody… hell…”
* * * * *
(A/N: Thanks to Fenris Mourningstar, TheShadowCat, nulinka & RedSharpie (welcome back! And yes, I'm still working on part 4 of the 'Getting to Know You' series... I'm taking a wee break but will have something ready to post soon. :)) for the lovely reviews. So glad you're enjoying! More soon.)