Speed Demon

Chapter Sixteen

Staring down at the first page of the large book, Xander blinked, tilting his head. It was an old article of one of his first races, the first he had won. The article itself wasn’t familiar, though, and neither was the second article on the next page. His first thought was that some over-eager fan had paid the hotel staff to bring it in and set it on the bed, but then he realized why he hadn’t recognized either of the articles.

They were from English newspapers.

Turning around, mouth opening to ask Spike if he knew anything about it, Xander blinked at the seemingly empty room. “Spike?” he called out, concerned, and heard an answering mumble a lot closer than he had been expecting.

Looking down, he arched a black eyebrow and tried to suppress the twitching of his lips as he stared down at his lover, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up, head buried in his arms.

“Um, baby? Why are you sittin’ on the floor?”

This time the mutter was accompanied with a sharp shake of the blonde’s head, so Xander shrugged and went back to flipping through the heavy book, skimming over the contents. It was filled with photos and clippings of newspaper and magazine articles, ticket stubs and messy faded scrawlings under some of the pictures.

Bemused about why someone had left it in his room, and a little melancholy from looking over his past exploits and the career he had loved so much, Xander flipped back to the front cover, looking for anything that might explain it. He blinked and then looked down at Spike again, dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed.

William James Thomas was scrawled in black ink, along with the year, almost seven years prior, and Xander’s full name, underlined twice. He glanced down at Spike’s dejected pose again but didn’t say anything, just looked back over the contents of the book a little more closely, reading the more legible scribblings.

Little details were written under the pictures, like how many laps he had led, or how many points he was behind, along with comments he had made in interviews.

‘Hottest picture ever!’ was written under a full-page beer ad, of Xander with nothing on but a pair of unbuttoned, faded jeans, holding a cold long-necked bottle against his sweaty neck. His hands were grimy and greasy and he had a black smudge on his forehead, like he’d just gotten through with a race, but it was his glittering, half-closed eyes staring into the camera that stood out in the picture.

It had been the last of that type of ad, however, since he had married Anya not long after it was taken and she had decided early on that she wanted him all to herself that way. Magazine pictures of his wedding and their interviews soon after filled the next pages, with black inked-in mustaches and devil horns on every one of his ex wife’s pictures. He bit his lip to keep in the snort of laughter that kept threatening as he read some of the comments about her written in the margins, especially on the pictures taken during their divorce many pages later.

Most of him was going ‘awww’, because really, it was adorable. In a teenage, yearbook signing, 'Mr and Mrs. Whoever' with little hearts around it way.

Part of him was humbled and embarrassed; he had no idea how to react modestly to what he was looking at. A smaller part, though, the cynical ‘been around the block and seen more than I ever wanted to’ part that came with such celebrity, was wondering if it had ever been him that Spike had wanted.

“Spike?” he finally asked, voice low and as even as he could make it. “What is this?”

Another mumble, only this time he could make out a few of the words, the main one being, ‘Willow’. Still holding the thick, heavy book, filled with the best and worst years of his life, Xander stood and raked his free hand through his hair.

“What’s Willow got to do with it?”

He sighed in exasperation when all he got in response was another shake of blonde hair. “Fine. I’ll be back when you regain your ability to speak, then,” he snapped out, wincing internally at the sharp way it had sounded but needing to get out of the room. He needed air, needed to clear his head before he said or asked something he wouldn’t be able to take back later. He needed… Willow.

***

A sharp knock to her door pulled Willow away from the bright glare of her laptop and she stretched her aching back as she stood up. Figuring it was William at the door, probably about to murder her for interfering, she was in no hurry as she walked over to open it.

She pulled the door open, expecting her brother’s scowling face, but saw Xander there instead, looking absolutely delicious. Opening her mouth to invite him in, an embarrassing squeak came out and he grinned.

As much as she’d seen him over the past few days, it was still such a shock to be there around him, standing near him. She’d never really been into racing, even though her step-father was a famous driver, but Will had drug her down into slavish devotion along with him when they had first seen Xander race.

Of course, it was more the sight of him laughing, black waves of hair thrown back, dripping sweat, white teeth flashing, dark eyes sparkling, that had drawn them in.

They’d been hooked from that moment on, so it was more than a bit unreal to be standing there gawking at him, a little like how she figured trying to talk to a movie star would feel. She still couldn’t believe that he and Will- and that easily, her mind went back on track, enough for her to be able to open the door wider and say, “Come on in.”

Her eyes widened as she saw the familiar leather-bound book under his arm, wondering why he was here instead of talking to William, but she didn’t comment, instead leading him to the small living room. Waving him over to the couch, she perched on the edge of the over-stuffed comfortable chair and waited for him to speak.

He sighed and ran his hand absently over the soft leather of the scrapbook, the wary and confused look in his eyes warning her that maybe it hadn’t been the brightest decision she had ever made to give him the old book. He held it so tenderly, though, that it gave her some hope.

“I- well, this was in my room, but of course you know that, huh?” He sighed again, glancing up at her and shaking his head. “I asked Spike about it but he won’t tell me. Just mentioned your name and clammed up.”

Willow grimaced, mentally knocking herself upside the head. Of course William wouldn’t want to explain the book to his teenage idol. She hadn’t thought that far ahead, just hadn’t liked the distance he had kept putting between him and Xander.

Getting up to cross over and sit beside him on the couch, she reached for the book and after a second’s hesitation, he handed it over. Flipping it open, she smiled softly as she ran her thumb over the barely legible ‘William’ written on the inside.

“He didn’t know that I brought it. He’s probably plotting my murder right now,” she tried to joke but at the wary look still on Xander’s face, she sighed. “We started watching you race on television when we were around seventeen and started collecting American magazines for articles of you, that kind of thing. We even taped your commercials, but don’t tell Will I told you,” she said quietly, smiling at the embarrassed grin that flashed across his face at the last part.

“You’ve got to understand, though, that at that point in our lives, we needed something besides reality to focus on. At least if we wanted to stay sane. I.. don’t want to talk about those years, I’m sure Will told you mostly everything, it’s his story to tell, but they were tough times. I used to have nightmares about William’s father finding the scrapbooks, though, so I always kept them with me. I brought them because I figured William might want to go through them again some day.”

“Why give it to me, then? Shouldn’t you have given it to Spike?” There was no censure in his soft voice, but she winced anyway.

“I had planned to, but everything happened and .. I don’t know. After that night that he told you everything, he closed off. I could see it happening. He started staying in here with me, running me around town, ignoring me when I asked about you. He even slept in here the past two nights,” she said, biting her lip as she debated how much to say.

Mentally taking a deep breath, she continued. “I didn’t want you to give up on him. He needs you, especially right now, but I know how he gets, abrasive to the point that you just want to strangle him. He’s one of the strongest people I know but he’s still so.. fragile. You kept him alive, in more ways than one.” He started to interrupt there and she raised a hand to stop him.

“I know, it’s a lot to put on you. You’re only human. It was more the idea of you, y’know? You were strong and free and confident and he wanted to be you. And wanted you,” she added with a grin, watching his face flush.

“But that,” he protested, pointing to the book, “that’s not me, not anymore.”

She shook her head. “It’ll always be part of you. But that’s not why I gave it to you. I just wanted you to understand him a little better. Please don’t give up on him, Xander. I don’t want that fucking bastard to hurt him anymore.”

He blinked at the profanity, but nodded, standing up. “I don’t plan to, but you’re right. It’s a lot to put on person and I am only human.” He smiled sadly and shook his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through it. Thanks for carin’ so much about him. He’s lucky to have you.”

Taking the book from her, he kissed her lightly on the forehead and smiled again, before walking out the door and closing it gently behind him. She stared after him, worry warring with glee as she touched her fingertips to her forehead.

William was a lucky man, if he didn’t let his fear muck it all up.

***

Easing open the door, Xander quietly walked in, not wanting to startle Spike. Glancing over, he saw that the boy was still in the same position on the floor that he had been in when he had left, only now the blonde’s head was leaned back against the wall, tv remote beside him.

There was a faint buzzing noise, but he ignored it.

Placing the book back on the bed, he folded his body down to sit beside of Spike on the floor, waiting for him to speak, because he still wasn’t sure how he felt about any of it and wasn’t sure what to say.

He hadn’t told Willow that they had been well on their way to fixing things between them before her gift of the book, not wanting to sound ungrateful or make her think she messed things up. Her faith in him and her trusting him with her brother humbled him, even as it scared him a little.

After a few moments, Spike breathed in deeply and sighed, saying quietly, “He’s here already.”

Blinking, Xander turned towards him and searched his face in confusion. “Who’s here?”

“My father. Schmoozing all over the reporters and the media, mentioned something about a father-son commercial for some clothing brand. His career must be fading,” the blonde replied in a calm, flat tone.

“He spoke to you?” Xander asked sharply, hackles rising at the thought.

Spike just waved his hand towards the television set and when Xander glanced towards it he had to laugh. The heavy vase that had been on the nightstand was now smashed in pieces, half inside the broken screen of the tv. That’s what the buzzing noise was.

“I take it you would prefer to not do the commercial, then?” he asked, wondering exactly how much it was going to cost him to keep this evidence of a tantrum away from the press. Spike rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

“Of course I’m bloody not gonna do it.”

They sat in silence a few more minutes, Xander having no idea what to say to his lover that could possibly help. The day just kept getting worse.

“You’re not gonna ask about the book again?” Spike finally asked, eyes closed, a faint flush across his cheeks.

Xander studied him a moment before saying, “I figured you would tell me when you wanted to.”

The blonde muttered something about ‘not bloody ever’ and ‘she is so dead’, before he sighed and opened his eyes, turning to look at Xander. “It’s not like I was hiding it, it’s just bloody embarrassing. Kid’s stuff. Has nothing to do with us now.”

Making a noncommittal sound, Xander grinned. “I think it’s adorable.” He waited for the expected eye roll, and then ran a hand over his face, saying in a low serious voice, “But are you sure it has nothing to do with us now?”

Spike frowned, studying him a moment before asking, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… is it even me you’re attracted to? Or is it that,” he asked, waving a hand at the scrapbook on the bed. “Because that isn’t who I am.”

Blue eyes narrowed warningly before Spike bit out, “I can’t believe you’d even ask me that. Don’t you think I know the difference between what we have to show them,” making a general motion with his hand towards the window, “and who we really are inside? I’ve been living it for my whole life, Xander.”

He pushed himself up and started to pace, running both hands through his gelled back hair, making it stand up in white-blonde spikes and curls. “Yeah, when they first said you were interested in the crew chief position, it might have been part of the reason I went for it. But only in the sense that I knew you were damn good at what you did. If I had thought anything could happen between us, it would have been easier to simply find a different crew chief because of this ‘working together’ bollocks.”

He turned to look at Xander, face serious, with a little frown between his dark brows. “I’ve always been attracted to you, yeah, before I even met you. But it wasn’t until I got to know you that I wanted you, needed you. That is part of you, what’s in that book, but you’re also so fuckin’ much more.”

Pushing himself off of the floor, Xander walked towards him, hands reaching to gently cup his face. “Shh, I know, baby. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you saw me. I should have known better, but my ex.. that’s all she saw, the things in that book. When I retired for her, she realized that it was that she wanted, not me. The famous driver with all the money and flashy cars, all the commercials and tv interviews, not the man.”

Stepping closer to wrap his arms tightly around Xander’s waist, Spike nuzzled his face against his neck, murmuring, “She was an idiot, luv.”

He shrugged, not having any bad feelings towards Anya. “We were young and she got lost in the glitter. She did care, enough to force me to retire so that I wouldn’t get hurt. We just had nothing in common when I was around more and hadn’t noticed it before then.”

Wanting to distract the boy from everything that had happened during the hellish day, and wanting to regain the closeness between them for himself because he was feeling a bit raw, too, Xander rubbed his cheek against the soft blonde hair tickling his chin and pressed closer to him.

Sliding his arms around Spike’s slender back, he ran his palms over the tempting ass that he just had to touch whenever they got close and squeezed gently. Dipping his head down, he murmured into the blonde’s ear, “Didn’t you want to get out of these wet, sticky jeans earlier?”

A slight hitch in Spike’s breathing let him know that the younger man liked the change in subject just fine.

***

A small relieved shudder went through Spike and he clung a little tighter to Xander, savoring his closeness. He had thought for sure that this would be the end of it, that the older man would see him for the pathetic kid he felt like, when he had seen that old book on the bed. That the brunette would think that it meant he hadn’t wanted him hadn’t crossed his mind.

That blonde bitch had done a number on his lover.

It relieved him a little that he wasn’t the only one still carrying his scars around, but he’d still like to get his hands on her. He’d had a pretty good idea of what Xander was like before he’d met the man but the more he was around him, the more he was fascinated by older man. That she couldn’t appreciate everything that made Xander up stupefied him.

Feeling sharp teeth latch onto the lobe of his ear, he shivered and pressed harder against the hard body in front of him. It had been too long, two days too long since Xander had been inside him and he felt his knees weaken at just the thought of it.

He felt grimy, though, and when he moved he could feel the itch and pull of his jeans from when he had come in them earlier at the garage. “Shower?” he murmured against Xander’s throat and the other man growled softly.

“If we have to,” Spike heard him say before Xander ducked his head to claim his mouth in a searing hot kiss. Gripping his hands in the older man’s shirt, he felt his head spin dizzily as he gave in to the slick tongue and soft lips.

He didn’t remember moving, but when Xander lifted his lips from Spike’s, they had somehow managed to walk into the bathroom without him knowing it. Groaning a little at the loss of Xander’s mouth, he tried to pull the other man’s head down again but he laughed and evaded his touch, stepping away.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up so I can get you dirty again.”

He pouted a little, but Xander ignored him, turning on the water and stripping out of his clothes. Watching avidly, Spike flushed when he turned around and caught him staring, arching a black brow at his still-clothed state.

Hurriedly pulling off his own clothes, he was rewarded by the hot possessive gleam in the older man’s dark eyes before Xander turned to step into the shower. Following him in a few seconds later, Spike moaned at the hot water cascading down on his tired muscles.

A wet soapy washcloth slid around to rub along his chest and he sighed, leaning back against Xander’s body. He was a little disappointed when the older man merely washed him, before quickly washing himself, but the hot look was still there in Xander’s eyes, so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

The slight shake in the other man’s large hands when he toweled Spike dry after the all too short shower helped too, as did his husky groan against the back of Spike’s neck.

“Wanted to take you to bed, but I don’t think I can wait that long,” he murmured, licking and biting softly at the still-wet skin there, making Spike shiver at the words and tingling sensations. That shiver seemed to be all the answer Xander needed, because he turned Spike around to face the sink and pressed him against it from behind, still licking the water droplets from Spike’s nape.

Catching sight of them in the mirror, Spike stared, entranced. They were a study in contrasts, Xander’s big, tanned body against his own slighter, paler one, the wet black hair mixing with his white-blonde locks.

Glancing up and meeting Spike’s eyes in the mirror, Xander smiled as he stepped back, running a rough, possessive hand up and down his spine. Nudging Spike’s thighs apart with his own, he pressed down lightly between his shoulders and bent him slightly over the sink. A whimper caught in Spike’s throat at the position and he felt his knees go weak again.

The first in a long train of soft kisses pressed lightly to the back of his neck and his eyes drifted closed. Soft, feather-light brushes of Xander’s mouth trailed down his spine, ending just at the base of it. When Spike felt those big rough hands gently cup his buttocks, the thumbs pushing down to part them, his eyes flew back open.

At the first soft wet lick of Xander’s tongue against the puckered skin there, he moaned sharply, his eyes glued to his reflection in the mirror, the hot, needy look on his own face startling him. Each hot stroke of tongue after that left him breathless and reeling, legs trembling, hands desperately gripping the edges of the sink, whimpers tumbling from his throat as he watched his eyes dilate with lust.

He couldn’t take it for long, not and still be able to stand there, but he couldn’t seem to be able to form words. Luckily, Xander seemed to understand what the frantic noises coming from his flushed and parted lips meant, giving one last slow lick before standing back up again to nibble at Spike’s shoulders.

Strong hands gripped his hips and tugged them back a foot or so, spreading his legs farther and bending him down over the sink so that the cool marble edge of the sink was pressed into his belly. Bending low over his body, Xander murmured in his ear, “Stay here just like this,” and then he was gone.

In the mirror, Spike watched him go into the bedroom and come back a few seconds later with the lube and a condom packet, which he set on the sink. Opening the lube, Xander watched Spike’s face as he slicked up two fingers and reached his hand down to rub and press against where his tongue had just loosened. With a little more pressure, first one, then both slid in, leaving Spike gasping at the hot, full feeling of it.

When Xander’s fingertips brushed up against his prostate, he jerked and moaned, hips pushing backwards against the other man. A few more nudges with his fingers, then Xander pulled his hand back, reaching for the foil packet and ripping it open. Hands gripping Spike’s hips to hold him steady, he pushed in slowly, gently.

Gritting his teeth at the harsh pleasure, Spike held on tighter to the sides of the sink, the cool marble digging into his palms as he tried to push back against Xander. Kissing and licking along the corded muscles in Spike’s neck and back, Xander eased the grip he had on the younger man’s hips, allowing him to move a little easier.

Slow, easy strokes turned harder and more frantic as their bodies became more desperate, one of Xander’s hands hugging Spike to his chest as the other reached around to grip his hard, leaking cock and start stroking in rhythm to his thrusts. Low gasping moans turned to choked cries, the double stimulation making Spike’s eyes roll back.

“Look at me, baby, I wana watch your eyes as you come,” Xander panted against the back of his neck and he forced his eyes open, looking again at the mirror. For a long, aching, desperate minute, they held each other’s eyes, watching the other’s face flush and gasp, moan. All too soon, Spike’s body started tightening, the wave of pleasure crashing over him as he cried out helplessly, eyes focused on the other man’s, the look on Xander’s face as he watched him come intensifying the erotic feelings.

The older man shuddered, hands coming up to rest on top of Spike’s, entwining their fingers. He stared into Spike’s dazed eyes, muscles in his neck flexing and veins pulsing as he thrust in deep twice more before moaning low, body shaking as he dropped his head on Spike’s shoulder.

Gasping, they stayed bent over the sink, intimately connected, for another couple of minutes, trying to catch their breath and steady their legs.

Finally, Spike had to laugh, and he choked out, “If we stay like this much longer, we’ll have to take the sink to bed with us, because I don’t think I’ll be able to pry my hands off.”

Laughing, Xander slowly stood up, easing out of Spike. “Well, we can’t have that. I’d get all jealous if I had to share you with a sink.”

Moving to the bedroom on wobbly legs, they toppled down on the mattress, pulling the sheets up around them. When Xander was situated on his back, Spike curled up around him, one thigh throw over his, arm around Xander’s waist and his head in the crook of the older man’s neck. Almost asleep, he grumbled and clung when Xander started to get back up again.

“R’yagoin?”

“The tv’s buzzin’ from where you killed it earlier. I’m gonna turn it off.”

“Mmph, leav’t.”

A soft laugh, then he settled back down, tugging Spike up closer onto his chest, kissing his forehead softly. “Okay, baby. G’night.”

“Mm’ite, v’ya..”

“Mmm?”

Silence except for their soft breathing, and Xander slipped to sleep seconds later, Spike slowly unfreezing his body as he berated his subconscious for letting it slip out. It was quite a few minutes later before he could drift off to sleep as well, as he came to terms with what he had known for weeks, but repressed.

Troubled dreams kept waking him during the night, but he knew Xander attributed them to tomorrow’s race and his father, not what they were really about. With everything else going on, it was terrifying to finally figure out that he was in love for the first time in his life.