Tainted Returns
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
8,164
Reviews:
40
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
8,164
Reviews:
40
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.
Returning
My Beta is back in town, so y'all can breathe a sigh of relief. : )~ Thanks bunches, Beamer; you're the best. rem remaining mistakes are mine -- probably due to stubbornness.
**********
Part Twelve
**********
Gazing down at the still form below him, Xander licked his upper lip. His anticipation growing, he froze as a sudden thought occurred to him.
**What am I doing?**
He grinned then. He *knew* what he was doing. Spike was his; he just had to show Spike that. The very thought sent tendrils of lust, and something he didn't want to define, something pleasant, creeping through him.
"Spike?" he asked, dipping his head and tracing his lips along the vampire's jaw line. The body beneath him stiffened, and Xander grinned, waiting as Spike fought through several responses.
"What?"
Xander leaned back to meet Spike's flashing blue eyes, and he wondered how much control the semi-civil response had taken. He had no doubt that Spike was going to fight him every step of the way -- and he would have it no other way. He just wouldn't let Spike know that quite yet.
"Mine!" Xander hissed, reaching up to card his fingers through Spike's hair. Xander grinned again as Spike shivered beneath him, the vampire tensing further, his eyes flashing with flecks of gold.
Lips narrowing to a thin line, Spike clenched his jaw tightly, not responding to Xander's possessive declaration.
"Come on, Spike, I *know* you have something to say," Xander teased. "You always do."
That time, Xander couldn't mistake the flash in Spike's *very* angry eyes. "Sod off, Harris! You got what you wanted!"
"Not by a long shot," Xander denied calmly, even as his hand tightened in the short strands of Spike's hair. "Say it."
Spike shook his head.
Xander's grip tightened again, and Spike winced. "Say it."
"You won't be like this forever, Xander," Spike replied through clenched teeth. "What then?"
Xander just grinned down at him.
"Damn it, Harris! Think! Would 'Normal Xander' want this?"
"He's *not* coming back," Xander denied vehemently. He *had* to believe that. He couldn't go back to that other existence. He *couldn't*. He didn't want to be like that anymore. Everyone walked all over *that* him, even his friends.
"Yes, he *is*!"
Trembling, rage and fear making him alternately hot and cold, Xander wrenched Spike's head back painfully. "Don't *say* that!"
"You wanted me to talk, Harris, so, I'm talking! When the blood wears off, you're going to hate yourself -- and you're going to hate *me*. Don't--"
Spike's words choked off, and something inside Xander wilted at the deep pain he could see cut into the lines of Spike's face.
"Shhh," he replied, easing his grip. "You don't understand."
"Damn right, I don't!" Spike spat back, fury displacing the pain instantly and radiating off him in palpable waves.
"Say it, Spike," Xander said again. He could feel the fine tremors shake Spike's body, and Xander inhaled deeply, tasting the scents that assailed him. Rage, fear, lust, all poured off the vampire. It was a heady mix, and he was beginning to understand some of the things that drove vampires to do what they did. That was a scary thought, and it *almost* made Xander pull back.
**Scary?** He blinked, wondering why it would be scary. A moment later he realized it didn't matter, he simply *had* to taste the beautiful creature trapped below him. Without another thought, he did so, dipping down to lick at the wonderfully exposed throat. The muscles beneath his tongue clenched and relaxed as Spike swallowed.
"Say it," Xander murmured, never removing his mouth. He shifted down, grazing his teeth lightly across Spike's prominent collarbone, relishing the shiver it provoked. "Say it," he repeated softly.
"You don't know what--" Spike began, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Shh, I *do* know," Xander replied, releasing Spike's free hand as he moved further down to tease a taut nipple. "You're mine, Spike," he said again, never raising his voice, being quietly encouraging. "Say it."
Silence greeted him, and he frowned. Shifting sideways, he lathed Spike's other nipple gently, pinching the first one hard between two fingers.
Spike arched up off the floor, his resultant moan wrenched from his throat.
With great satisfaction, Xander felt the hard cock beneath him twitch; though he hadn't needed that verification to know Spike was aroused. Along with everything else, the scent of the vampire's lust filled the air. Xander just needed to work past the vampire's anger at being bested -- and his fear, which Xander couldn't understand.
For about half a second, Xander wondered if he should really be pushing this hard. With a frown, he immediately shook off the uncomfortable, unwanted thought. He froze; pulling back, panic trilling through him. It was in that awful moment he knew what was happening.
**No!** he screamed silently. **I won't go back to being caged!**
Lurching backward, Xander stumbled across the room, desperate to outrace the waning effects of the blood. He'd been so *sure* the merging had been permanent. Panting, fighting to hold on to what he now had, Xander fled the room, wincing as he heard Spike's outraged shout.
"Oi! Let me loose first!"
He had to fight to hold on; he'd promised Spike. He had no illusion as towhat would happen if Normal Xander resumed control. Slamming the mansion door behind him, Xander rushed across the courtyard and collapsed against the fountain. Inside, Spike was shouting at him to 'bloody well let him go already!'.
He winced again, focusing inward; the returning rush of consequences, the future, and *guilt*, forcefully telling him his time as he was now was coming to an end.
"No!" he hollered, refusing to surrender. He could find the Margaso, surely he could make some kind of deal.
His returning conscience sat like a tiny angel, laughing at the idea.
//Right, and I'm sure *Buffy* would just love that. She'll go along with it. She'll say, 'Sure, Xander, whatever you want'. Besides, you don't have the time.//
Free Xander glared, though there was nothing to glare at. He was alone. And he was talking to himself. At this point he didn't care, though. He wasn't going to surrender to the Zeppo in himself without a fight. He wasn't really split. There weren't two of him -- even inside one body. But that didn't change the fact that he didn't want to go back to the way things had been.
Laughing as he remembered the one time he really *had* been split into two beings, he pictured Zeppo and Suave Xander having this argument, only he -- Free Xander -- stood in place of Suave Xander. It was marginally more sane than arguing with himself, and he went with it.
He was grasping at straws, and he well knew it, but there had to be *something* that would prevent Normal Xander from burying all this freedom beneath the jokes and the clumsiness again. He just had to figure out what it was.
He sighed, slumping. His imaginary argument not going well. He hadn't realized, not really, just how *stubborn* he could be. He frowned. He'd have to work on that. At least he *hoped* he'd have the chance. If not him, then maybe Normal Xander would take it to heart and do it.
He growled low in his chest. He *hated* . H. He'd been careful. He'd made *sure* he hadn't done anything *really* bad. At least nothing that Buffy would slip into Slayer mode over. And still, as the effects of the blood wore off, heavy guilt, horror, and fear descended to tear him apart.
As darkness closed in on him and he gave up the fight, he swore that if he *ever* got completely free again, he'd find a way to *stay* free. He'd even go to the Margaso. If that meant having to flee Sunnydale and his friends, so be it. He just hoped Spike wouldn't get hurt in the process. He'd given his word, and he didn't break his word. His last faint thought was another promise. If Xander didn't bury him, he would . . . control himself if he ever got completely free again.
**
Xander leapt off the fountain as he came to. Shivering, his mind reeling with the events of the last two days, he still didn't believe he'd fai-- passed out. His knees gave out almost as soon as he was fully upright, and he sank back down onto the fountain. He tried, but couldn't stop shaking. It was all so . . . unreal.
All he'd wanted was to teach Spike a lesson.
//Oh, yeah, you did that alright,// a nasty voice inside him snarked, //in spades.//
His stomach clenched, and he hurriedly bent over, losing the contents of his stomach. "Oh, God!" he breathed. He and Spike. He'd . . . with Spike.
But then he remembered the thrill of hunting the deer, and later the wolf. *That* had been great, he had to admit. His stomach rolled a bit as he recalled what came later. The deer's blood. And, oh my, sharing it with Spike. How he'd-- Xander gulped, shooting a guilty glance toward the mansion. He pushed aside a lot of what that made him feel, *really* not wanting to examine it. It was enough that he'd actually *done* those things -- and *liked* them. He really didn't want to know whether he'd like it now.
Unfortunately, he couldn't run and hide, forgetting it all. Spike was trapped inside, and unless he wanted to go to Buffy and explain the whole sordid mess -- *NOT!* -- he had to go back inside at least long enough to throw Spike the key to the manacles.
tho thoughts buzzing with conflict, feeling torn in two completely opposing directions, Xander slowly made his way back inside. He really didn't want to go in, but he owed the blond vampire. He owed him *big* time. And much as he would have just left the bastard where he was two days ago. He couldn't do that now. He wasn't stupid. He knew something fundamental had changed between them; he just didn't know how it was all going to turn out.
He froze as he stepped into the open living room, embarrassment flooding him as lust shot through him at the sight of a naked Spike, chained and virtually helpless. He swallowed and tried to breathe normally past the tight band constricting his chest. Spike was curled into a tight ball, the very picture of abject misery.
"Spike," he called out hoarsely, his voice hardly more than a whisper. It was loud enough though; Spike launched himself up off the floor, immediately trying to tear himself loose from the remaining manacles. The stark fear that flashed through the vampire's eyes before he hid it, kept Xander frozen in place.
"Now, now, Harris. Don't do anything rash," Spike urged, his voice urgent yet placating. "We can just forget it all happened. No need for sharp pointy objects at all."
Xander couldn't believe the hurt that stabbed through him at the vampire's plea. "Oh, god! You really believe I'm that much of an asshole, don't you?" he breathed disbelievingly. He'd taunted, tormented -- oh god! -- *marked* Spike, all but raped him, and Spike believed he'd go even further and stake the victim. Shaking as rage, pain, and shame all vied for top position, Xander strode across the room and tossed the key within Spike's reach.
Making the mistake of meeting Spike's gaze, Xander froze for just a second before turning and fleeing. He wasn't running from Spike, or what he'd done; he was running from what he wanted to do. Though, given the chance, he wasn't entirely certain whether he'd have chosen to beat the crap out of Spike, or fuck him. The shock in those startlingly blue eyes had been the last straw, and he'd simply run. Spike had really believed Xander would stake him for what had happened.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback craved and deliciously savored. : )
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
**********
Part Twelve
**********
Gazing down at the still form below him, Xander licked his upper lip. His anticipation growing, he froze as a sudden thought occurred to him.
**What am I doing?**
He grinned then. He *knew* what he was doing. Spike was his; he just had to show Spike that. The very thought sent tendrils of lust, and something he didn't want to define, something pleasant, creeping through him.
"Spike?" he asked, dipping his head and tracing his lips along the vampire's jaw line. The body beneath him stiffened, and Xander grinned, waiting as Spike fought through several responses.
"What?"
Xander leaned back to meet Spike's flashing blue eyes, and he wondered how much control the semi-civil response had taken. He had no doubt that Spike was going to fight him every step of the way -- and he would have it no other way. He just wouldn't let Spike know that quite yet.
"Mine!" Xander hissed, reaching up to card his fingers through Spike's hair. Xander grinned again as Spike shivered beneath him, the vampire tensing further, his eyes flashing with flecks of gold.
Lips narrowing to a thin line, Spike clenched his jaw tightly, not responding to Xander's possessive declaration.
"Come on, Spike, I *know* you have something to say," Xander teased. "You always do."
That time, Xander couldn't mistake the flash in Spike's *very* angry eyes. "Sod off, Harris! You got what you wanted!"
"Not by a long shot," Xander denied calmly, even as his hand tightened in the short strands of Spike's hair. "Say it."
Spike shook his head.
Xander's grip tightened again, and Spike winced. "Say it."
"You won't be like this forever, Xander," Spike replied through clenched teeth. "What then?"
Xander just grinned down at him.
"Damn it, Harris! Think! Would 'Normal Xander' want this?"
"He's *not* coming back," Xander denied vehemently. He *had* to believe that. He couldn't go back to that other existence. He *couldn't*. He didn't want to be like that anymore. Everyone walked all over *that* him, even his friends.
"Yes, he *is*!"
Trembling, rage and fear making him alternately hot and cold, Xander wrenched Spike's head back painfully. "Don't *say* that!"
"You wanted me to talk, Harris, so, I'm talking! When the blood wears off, you're going to hate yourself -- and you're going to hate *me*. Don't--"
Spike's words choked off, and something inside Xander wilted at the deep pain he could see cut into the lines of Spike's face.
"Shhh," he replied, easing his grip. "You don't understand."
"Damn right, I don't!" Spike spat back, fury displacing the pain instantly and radiating off him in palpable waves.
"Say it, Spike," Xander said again. He could feel the fine tremors shake Spike's body, and Xander inhaled deeply, tasting the scents that assailed him. Rage, fear, lust, all poured off the vampire. It was a heady mix, and he was beginning to understand some of the things that drove vampires to do what they did. That was a scary thought, and it *almost* made Xander pull back.
**Scary?** He blinked, wondering why it would be scary. A moment later he realized it didn't matter, he simply *had* to taste the beautiful creature trapped below him. Without another thought, he did so, dipping down to lick at the wonderfully exposed throat. The muscles beneath his tongue clenched and relaxed as Spike swallowed.
"Say it," Xander murmured, never removing his mouth. He shifted down, grazing his teeth lightly across Spike's prominent collarbone, relishing the shiver it provoked. "Say it," he repeated softly.
"You don't know what--" Spike began, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Shh, I *do* know," Xander replied, releasing Spike's free hand as he moved further down to tease a taut nipple. "You're mine, Spike," he said again, never raising his voice, being quietly encouraging. "Say it."
Silence greeted him, and he frowned. Shifting sideways, he lathed Spike's other nipple gently, pinching the first one hard between two fingers.
Spike arched up off the floor, his resultant moan wrenched from his throat.
With great satisfaction, Xander felt the hard cock beneath him twitch; though he hadn't needed that verification to know Spike was aroused. Along with everything else, the scent of the vampire's lust filled the air. Xander just needed to work past the vampire's anger at being bested -- and his fear, which Xander couldn't understand.
For about half a second, Xander wondered if he should really be pushing this hard. With a frown, he immediately shook off the uncomfortable, unwanted thought. He froze; pulling back, panic trilling through him. It was in that awful moment he knew what was happening.
**No!** he screamed silently. **I won't go back to being caged!**
Lurching backward, Xander stumbled across the room, desperate to outrace the waning effects of the blood. He'd been so *sure* the merging had been permanent. Panting, fighting to hold on to what he now had, Xander fled the room, wincing as he heard Spike's outraged shout.
"Oi! Let me loose first!"
He had to fight to hold on; he'd promised Spike. He had no illusion as towhat would happen if Normal Xander resumed control. Slamming the mansion door behind him, Xander rushed across the courtyard and collapsed against the fountain. Inside, Spike was shouting at him to 'bloody well let him go already!'.
He winced again, focusing inward; the returning rush of consequences, the future, and *guilt*, forcefully telling him his time as he was now was coming to an end.
"No!" he hollered, refusing to surrender. He could find the Margaso, surely he could make some kind of deal.
His returning conscience sat like a tiny angel, laughing at the idea.
//Right, and I'm sure *Buffy* would just love that. She'll go along with it. She'll say, 'Sure, Xander, whatever you want'. Besides, you don't have the time.//
Free Xander glared, though there was nothing to glare at. He was alone. And he was talking to himself. At this point he didn't care, though. He wasn't going to surrender to the Zeppo in himself without a fight. He wasn't really split. There weren't two of him -- even inside one body. But that didn't change the fact that he didn't want to go back to the way things had been.
Laughing as he remembered the one time he really *had* been split into two beings, he pictured Zeppo and Suave Xander having this argument, only he -- Free Xander -- stood in place of Suave Xander. It was marginally more sane than arguing with himself, and he went with it.
He was grasping at straws, and he well knew it, but there had to be *something* that would prevent Normal Xander from burying all this freedom beneath the jokes and the clumsiness again. He just had to figure out what it was.
He sighed, slumping. His imaginary argument not going well. He hadn't realized, not really, just how *stubborn* he could be. He frowned. He'd have to work on that. At least he *hoped* he'd have the chance. If not him, then maybe Normal Xander would take it to heart and do it.
He growled low in his chest. He *hated* . H. He'd been careful. He'd made *sure* he hadn't done anything *really* bad. At least nothing that Buffy would slip into Slayer mode over. And still, as the effects of the blood wore off, heavy guilt, horror, and fear descended to tear him apart.
As darkness closed in on him and he gave up the fight, he swore that if he *ever* got completely free again, he'd find a way to *stay* free. He'd even go to the Margaso. If that meant having to flee Sunnydale and his friends, so be it. He just hoped Spike wouldn't get hurt in the process. He'd given his word, and he didn't break his word. His last faint thought was another promise. If Xander didn't bury him, he would . . . control himself if he ever got completely free again.
**
Xander leapt off the fountain as he came to. Shivering, his mind reeling with the events of the last two days, he still didn't believe he'd fai-- passed out. His knees gave out almost as soon as he was fully upright, and he sank back down onto the fountain. He tried, but couldn't stop shaking. It was all so . . . unreal.
All he'd wanted was to teach Spike a lesson.
//Oh, yeah, you did that alright,// a nasty voice inside him snarked, //in spades.//
His stomach clenched, and he hurriedly bent over, losing the contents of his stomach. "Oh, God!" he breathed. He and Spike. He'd . . . with Spike.
But then he remembered the thrill of hunting the deer, and later the wolf. *That* had been great, he had to admit. His stomach rolled a bit as he recalled what came later. The deer's blood. And, oh my, sharing it with Spike. How he'd-- Xander gulped, shooting a guilty glance toward the mansion. He pushed aside a lot of what that made him feel, *really* not wanting to examine it. It was enough that he'd actually *done* those things -- and *liked* them. He really didn't want to know whether he'd like it now.
Unfortunately, he couldn't run and hide, forgetting it all. Spike was trapped inside, and unless he wanted to go to Buffy and explain the whole sordid mess -- *NOT!* -- he had to go back inside at least long enough to throw Spike the key to the manacles.
tho thoughts buzzing with conflict, feeling torn in two completely opposing directions, Xander slowly made his way back inside. He really didn't want to go in, but he owed the blond vampire. He owed him *big* time. And much as he would have just left the bastard where he was two days ago. He couldn't do that now. He wasn't stupid. He knew something fundamental had changed between them; he just didn't know how it was all going to turn out.
He froze as he stepped into the open living room, embarrassment flooding him as lust shot through him at the sight of a naked Spike, chained and virtually helpless. He swallowed and tried to breathe normally past the tight band constricting his chest. Spike was curled into a tight ball, the very picture of abject misery.
"Spike," he called out hoarsely, his voice hardly more than a whisper. It was loud enough though; Spike launched himself up off the floor, immediately trying to tear himself loose from the remaining manacles. The stark fear that flashed through the vampire's eyes before he hid it, kept Xander frozen in place.
"Now, now, Harris. Don't do anything rash," Spike urged, his voice urgent yet placating. "We can just forget it all happened. No need for sharp pointy objects at all."
Xander couldn't believe the hurt that stabbed through him at the vampire's plea. "Oh, god! You really believe I'm that much of an asshole, don't you?" he breathed disbelievingly. He'd taunted, tormented -- oh god! -- *marked* Spike, all but raped him, and Spike believed he'd go even further and stake the victim. Shaking as rage, pain, and shame all vied for top position, Xander strode across the room and tossed the key within Spike's reach.
Making the mistake of meeting Spike's gaze, Xander froze for just a second before turning and fleeing. He wasn't running from Spike, or what he'd done; he was running from what he wanted to do. Though, given the chance, he wasn't entirely certain whether he'd have chosen to beat the crap out of Spike, or fuck him. The shock in those startlingly blue eyes had been the last straw, and he'd simply run. Spike had really believed Xander would stake him for what had happened.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback craved and deliciously savored. : )
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com