Protective Custody (1/20)COMPLETE

(Disclaimer: We own nothing. Joss owns all. You know the drill.)


Spike lay staring at the ceiling. This wasn't like all the other nights before. Tonight, he didn't fall into a deep, deep sleep the minute his head touched the pillow. His brain didn't stop. And his body didn't feel like lead weight. He was...getting better.

Now. About the problem called Xander. The boy had a crush on him, that much was clear. If it had been just about sex, it might have been alright. But the way he looked at him to tonight. Velvetty chocolate brown eye so soft and blurry, so full of emotions he couldn't hide... it scared Spike. Even now, his stomach clenched. Fear for Xander... for the disappointment he'd ultimately face if he went down this road. And fear for himself. Because never had anyone looked at him with such open adoration, without asking a thing back from him, or expecting him to be strong, or to know all the answers. He could drown in that. He could lose himself in it.

"No. Nip it in the bud tonight, that's the best way. Yeah... stop him looking at me like that, and get Buffy... everything will get back to normal." He muttered his thoughts aloud. Now for the plan.

Wide awake, and perfectly alright, he started shouting the way Xander told him he cried out at nights. He spewed out words and curses, and called for help, hitting the nightstand with his hand and threatening to send it crashing to the ground again.

Xander woke up to the usual screaming coming from the bedroom. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered to fall asleep. He rubbed his eye, trying to wake up enough to stumble to the bedroom. Once there, he climbed on the bed and cuddled next to Spike. He’d stopped trying to force him down a couple of nights before when he realised that his mere presence on the bed seemed to calm the blond down.

“Sleep Spike. I’m here now. Just sleep ‘kay?” He mumbled and pulled Spike close to him. Now that he’d finally accepted the fact that he wanted Spike, he could enjoy feeling the blond’s body against him without trying to excuse the pleasure he got out of it. He sighed happily and relaxed, willing himself to go back to sleep.

Spike wasn't as happy. This wasn't right. Xander was going sleep… Just sleep? He'd been eyeing him like some sort of fruit tart...right, not the best description considering their situation...but now he wasn't taking advantage. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to take what they wanted when the object of their desire was in deep sleep?

Xander wouldn't. Because he was caring, and human and...damnit... Spike argued with himself. To do this or not. To hurt the boy. That wasn't the question. Xander would be hurt either way. Sooner was better than later. Later would mean heartache…

Decision made, there was no turning back. Spike rolled over on top of Xander, whispering meaningless words against the boy's ear. His breath came hot and moist, and he felt the boy's immediate reaction under him.

He stroked Xander's sides, up and down, each time pressing closer, moulding their bodies together. His shorts suddenly constricted around him so tight, he hissed. Control... where the bloody hell had his control gone?

Xander was drifting back to sleep when he felt Spike roll on top of him. Nothing new there, Spike always cuddled when he felt Xander next to him. The whispering though, that was new. And so was the touching and the pressing and oh God that felt so good. He tried to breathe normally and ignore Spike’s actions but damn it was hard. Spike chose that moment to kiss and nibble on his neck and ‘hard’ acquired a whole new meaning. He let out a soft moan he arched his body, pressing against Spike.

“Spike? Please be awake.” He whispered, tilting his neck to give the blond greater access.

The sound of his own name whispered so urgently sent a jolt of need through the ex-vampire. He shouldn't kiss him, he really shouldn't. He should just stick with the plan, but that mouth...he needed to feel it...to taste it once again.

Muttering a few more senseless phrases before his thoughts were scattered to the winds, Spike lowered his mouth and unerringly found Xander's. Meeting no resistance at all, he pushed his tongue inside. His head swam as their tongues danced together, in and out. He let it go on for as long as he could, then slid his hand under Xander's head and kissed him more fiercely, taking everything the boy would give him...savouring it, craving more.

Xander let himself get lost in the kiss, in the feel and taste of Spike. Please be awake, Spike. He felt Spike’s hands trail down his chest and toy with the edge of his sleep pants. He pushed up, rubbing his erection against the blond, willing the hands to sneak inside his pants.

When they finally did, cupping his ass and pulling him harder against Spike he moaned into the kiss, his own hands finally coming into play. He started at the blond’s back, tracing the muscles and slowly trailing downwards. The small part of his mind not dazed by Spike’s kiss noticed how silky soft the skin felt, how the muscles quivered under his fingers, how Spike shivered when he touched him.

Spike was lost in sensations. Xander's warm body wriggling slightly under him. The heated kisses, the slide of tongue against tongue, the tentative strokes of Xander's hands as they reached his ass...A shock of desire wracked his body, instantly making him grow hard and heavy, as he jerked against Xander, trying to get relief.
He raked his hands one last time down Xander's bare chest, gripped the elastic waistband of his pyjama bottoms and shorts, and cleanly swept the material half way down the boy's thighs. Why he needed to feel him, to run his hand over his arousal, to know how much the boy wanted him back, was beyond him. But once he gripped his silky-soft length and stroked him, felt the boy grow harder in his hand, a thrill edged with fear and warning ran through him.

Sticking with the plan was growing close to impossible. There had been no nakedness in the plan. Already Xander was naked. There had been no penetration in the plan, but God damn it...Spike wanted it...he wanted to turn Xander over...to feel him from the inside...to hear him call his name out again and again.

Spike's entire body jerked in response to his thoughts. Taking his hand away as if it had been burned, he clamped down on Xander's hips and dragged him up against his body, as he pushed down and thrust against him.

Xander whimpered when Spike’s hand left him only to gasp in pleasure when his entire body was pulled into close contact with Spike’s, his cock rubbing against warm skin and hard flesh. He looked at Spike, saw blue eyes half-open but unseeing as they often did during one of the dreams. Shame overwhelmed him when he realised that he was taking advantage of Spike’s sleeping status. He tried to move back but Spike chose that moment to push down, and all thought fled Xander’s mind.

Through half lidded eyes, Spike watched the boy's eye as it darkened and went out of focus, he felt him shudder, and he was lost in the heady scent of the boy. Part clean fresh soap from all those bloody showers...the images that came with that thought had him thrust hard against the boy...part musky, all male.

Spike might have lost his vampiric senses, but there was nothing wrong with his memory...and it filled in the bits that he couldn't sense for real. The heady scent of pheromones building…clawing at him…drawing him like a magnet, the sound of blood rushing through veins and of a pumping heart. As if for real, he smelled and heard all the signs of arousal. And it built the pressure inside him. He rocked and rocked against Xander, seeking relief, climbing towards it before he burned up.

Xander pushed harder against Spike, his head arching back, eye closing as he chased his release. “Please Spike…” He whimpered, not sure what he was begging for but needing it all the same.

"Yes." He hadn't intended to answer, but every time he heard Xander say his name, he lost control. Spike ground his hips harder and faster, sharp stabs of pleasure driving him wild. Even through his shorts, he felt Xander, slick and hot against him, wanting him. He slid one hand under Xander's ass, lifting him up almost violently to meet his thrusts. By the time he shuddered his release and collapsed on top of the boy, his breath was ragged.

He was astounded by the strength of his reactions to Xander. And bloody hell... he'd forgotten to...
Xander felt Spike shudder against him and felt a touch of pride that he’d managed to make him lose control. Spike had come touching his body, his lips, him. He put his hand behind the blond’s head and dragged him down for another kiss. He could never get enough of Spike’s kisses. Feeling himself get closer to the edge, he arched back, letting go of the kiss.

Spike tried to say it now....he tried, but the word stuck in the back of his throat. He was meant to have been imagining her under him anyway, but all he'd seen and felt and wanted was Xander. It couldn't end like this. He had to do this… it was for the best... it was. Even if his gut clenched.

He worked up the courage again, then lifted his head slightly. "Buffy..." he groaned, giving one last hard thrust of his hips so his meaning couldn't possibly be lost on the boy.

Too late to stop his orgasm, Xander let himself go, closing his eye and turning his head away. Buffy. Of course. Spike was dreaming about Buffy. Shame returned with a vengeance when he realised he’d taken advantage of Spike. But this time…this time it wasn’t just shame. He tried to breathe in deeply but fuck it hurt. He couldn’t breathe, he just…he should have known. Buffy. Who else would it be?

Have to get out of here. Have to breathe.

He tried to scramble off the bed, forgetting about Spike’s octopus-like grip after the dreams.

The boy’s panic and hurt was palpable. Spike had known it would be bad. He'd been wrong. Dead wrong. It was worse than bad.

It's for his own good, one part of his mind cried out. But the other part, the new part cursed him to hell and back for wounding his friend.

He felt Xander wriggling...trying to get free. But somehow, he couldn't let him. He just couldn't. He needed to make it better, even a little. And not knowing how, he lowered his head and tried to kiss him better.

At first he tried to get away. Spike wasn’t kissing him, he was kissing Buffy. He didn’t want someone else’s kisses, he didn’t want to pretend that Spike cared for him when it was obvious it was all about Buffy. But gradually his resistance was worn down. How could he resist the tenderness, the love behind those lips? The love wasn’t for him but he could pretend for a while.

Xander might not know it, but these kisses were meant for him. Only for him. Slow and tender, meant to distract the boy, take him away from the ugliness of the moment. Spike kissed him again, and again, until he coaxed a response.

Xander felt something wet run down his cheek. For a moment he thought he was crying but no, his eye was dry. He felt Spike’s lips tremble and he realised that the blond was the one crying.

Crying for Buffy. All he wants is her. Swallowing down the pain he turned his head away again. Buffy’s kisses. Buffy’s tears. Buffy’s Spike.


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