Turnabout

When Spike staggered through the front door of the hotel, Xander was sitting on the floor of the lobby, leaning back against the couch. He had managed only a couple slugs of Angel's whiskey before anger had him hurtling the bottle across the room to smash against the front desk. Whiskey fumes still hung in the air and did nothing to improve Xander's mood.

"Hi honey, I'm home," Spike slurred proudly. He held up a bottle of cheap grocery store brand tequila in each hand, swaying as he gauged the three steps down to the lobby floor.

Xander cautiously got to his feet only to surge forward as the drunken vampire missed a step and seemed destined to dent the floor with his face.

"Oof!" Xander got his arms around Spike's torso as the vampire struggled to remain upright. After a precarious moment, they managed to steady themselves, and with exaggerated dignity, Spike disentangled himself. Miraculously, he managed to hold onto both bottles throughout.

"'Ere," He shoved the bottle in his right hand toward the wary man. "We're celebratin'."

Xander withdrew a step, searching Spike's eyes for some clue as to what was going on in that booze-soaked brain.

"Er, what exactly are we celebrating."

Spike shoved the bottle toward him again, and this time Xander reached out to take it.

Instead of answering, Spike looked blearily around the lobby and sniffed. "You started without me?"

"Started what, Spike?"

"Well, gimme mine back then, if you got yer own, ya git." Spike made a swipe for the bottle, but Xander pulled it out of reach easily.

"What are you talking about?" Xander spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Celebratin'" Spike gave him the familiar 'special-ed' assessment, a fairly significant achievement, Xander thought, considering the amount he must have drunk already to get to this state.

"Spike," he warned, patience stretched thin over the despair and anger that hadn't lessened in the time he spent brooding by himself on the lobby floor. "What the hell is there to be celebrating?"

Spike gestured toward the bottle in Xander's hand. "Birth, christening, baby showers, all that rot. Angel had a kid, didn't he? Calls for celebratin'. Drink up."

With the vampire watching him expectantly, Xander sipped from the bottle, smothering a grimace as the tequila burned his throat. Spike nodded in approval and took the bottle back to take a long gulp. He handed the other bottle to Xander, who took it somewhat confusedly.

"Uh, to birth?" Xander offered lifting the bottle.

Spike shook his head so vehemently he nearly lost his balance.

"Sodding wanker. This one's fer birth," He illustrated with another swig from the bottle now back in his right hand.

"So what's this one for?" Xander began to wonder, not for the first time, if Dru managed to pass on her insanity either through nature or nurture.

"We're having a wake. S'what ya do when someone dies, right?"

"So that one is for birth, and this one is for death." Xander spelled it out carefully. Part of him wondered why he bothered. Alcohol good. Thinking bad. Feeling anything even worse. "Anybody's death in particular." Bitterness laced the comment, although that seemed lost on his drinking companion.

"Angel's kid, who else?" Spike looked closely at Xander, reaching out to balance himself as he searched his face. "He's gone, so we gotta drink."

"Sure, whatever," Xander shook off the strong hand on his shoulder with less care this time and took a bigger drink from the bottle. Death he could drink to. So much fucking death. He sank heavily onto the couch with the vampire trailing behind him. Spike folded himself gracelessly on the floor at Xander's feet.

Almost without thought, Xander ran a hand over the mussed hair as he slugged back more of the tequila. He settled the bottle between his legs and looked down.

"So have you been celebrating since you left the office?"

Spike tilted his head back to look up at Xander, whose heart clenched to see that even the alcohol fog couldn't disguise the dept of pain that roiled there in those blue eyes. He moved his hand to stroke the cool cheek tenderly as love welled up for this creature who had endured so much and then returned only to confront this latest pain.

"I'm so sorry, Spike."

Blue eyes closed against the kindness, the depth of emotion now communicated in the clenching jaw line. Spike rested his forehead against the warm thigh, telling himself he would not weep. What the fuck did it matter to him that Angel had a new favorite boy. He hadn't been in his Sire's good graces in centuries. But you've never been replaced before, have you? A tiny voice niggled at him as it had been all afternoon.

"Spike?" Xander shifted to set the bottle on the floor before sliding off the couch to gather the tense figure into his arms.

"Why didn't he tell me?" Spike spoke into Xander's chest, unable to look up and unable to make himself pull away from the comfort he tried to tell himself that he absolutely did not need.

Xander sighed and tightened his hold. "You have met Angel, right? The official poster boy for the emotionally retarded?" Anger still thrummed through him, and turning it fully on Angel felt good. "He musta had his over-gelled head so far up his ass again that he dragged everyone else along with him. Not like Cor...er, anybody, called any of us in Sunnydale." He choked over Cordelia's name, unwilling to face that particular sorrow at the moment.

Spike suddenly shoved away, staggering to his feet. "I was bloody family! He's my Sire. I should have known, should have been told." He stared at Xander daring him to say anything, feeling the despair eat at his soul in the depth of the rejection that somehow hurt more than any of Dru's odd dalliances.

Xander took in the aggressive stance, but focused on the tears threatening to fall, tears that he guessed had done no more than threaten all day as Spike fought against them. The vampire's pain resonated with his own. That pain had driven him to drink and finally to Mistress Viola's where only pain and sex could beat it back because nothing could remove it altogether.

"You want to matter to him, to know he cares." Xander stepped closer as he spoke. "You want to know that when Conner came into his life, he still thought about you." Spike stood rooted under the intense gaze despite wanting to run from the words. He could feel himself trembling, threatening to spin apart in the face of the compassion aimed at him.

"You do matter, Spike. You're not forgotten." Warm hands rested on Spike's shoulders, sliding down to grip firmly around his upper arms.

"Xander?" Pain, loss, and oh so much desperate need. Xander recognized all of them, knowing he his own face probably held some of the same. Holding the gaze as long as he could, Xander slowly leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss across Spike's lips before pulling back only far enough to whisper, "You matter."

Spike gave a sound between a whimper and a moan and brought his arms up to clasp Xander closer, kissing him desperately, not noticing the tears that coursed down his cheeks to drip onto their shirts.

The embrace grew tighter, kisses harder as they each sought fought back the despair, taking what they needed. Teeth clashed and pinched lips, but they welcomed the physical pain as they ground against one another.

"Please," Spike heard himself beg, hardly knowing what it was he needed but trusting this man to give it to him. The day had broken him in familiar ways but with a depth that had him unable to find his way back to himself.

The gasping voice drove what little blood was left in his brain straight to his cock, and Xander nodded, panting. "Yes, bed, now."

They managed the stairs with a minimum of stumbling, neither willing to let go of the other. Once in bedroom, Xander pressed Spike onto the bed, straddling him. He ground their denim-clad erections together as he dove down for another kiss.

Part of Spike's brain tried to tell him to slow down, that they weren't ready for this, but his body had other ideas, and he couldn't remember why stopping should be an option. He tangled his hands in thick dark hair, arched up his hips for greater friction, bringing himself to the point of pain and needing more.

With more determination than finesse, Xander managed to get his hands under Spike's t-shirt and pull it off without breaking the kiss for any longer than necessary. This time, he avoided looking directly into those expressive blue eyes, not wanting to see any hesitation. Need had overtaken him, and it took all his control to focus on trying to give Spike what he wanted, trying to be what the vampire needed even as his own needs ached. He needed this connection, and he feared that if he glanced at the vampire's face, he would bring to the fore all of the rejection of those needs that had hurt so much only that morning. Instead he shoved down images of Spike's teeth ripping into him, pulling blood from him, turning the internal pain to the glorious external that came with being bitten.

Even as the chaotic thoughts clattered through his mind, he found that they had managed to divest themselves of clothing with Spike now on top of Xander, grinding their erections together. Thoughts of loss fluttered away in the wake of the physical sensations skittering across his skin..

"Yes, please," Xander gasped, needing more, needing to have all feeling driven away until all that remained was being taken by this beautiful man.

"Need you, pet." Spike muttered between kisses. He trailed lips across Xander's throat, sucking hard, raising red marks, and Xander arched wantonly into the vampire, crushing their cocks together in near pain.

"In me, Spike, please," Xander's voice broke and his hands pressed into the cool hard flesh of Spike's arms.

At that request, Spike's cock twitched violently, but he pulled back to search Xander's face. Xander blinked at the sudden cessation of movement to find himself staring at troubled blue eyes. He ripped his gaze away, unwilling to see Spike's return to his senses, his rejection. Instead, he pulled at the vampire's arms, trying to bring him close once more even as he bucked his hips in a deliberate attempt to return Spike's attention to the physical. Desperation flooded through him. He didn't want to stop to think or discuss, not when the pain of his life threatened to drown him. Part of him felt guilty as he realized that somewhere in the last few minutes he had moved from wanting to give Spike comfort to using Spike to escape his own pain, but he couldn't bear to stop when he was so close to what he had wanted for so long, what he had searched for in the degradation of Sang Froid so many nights.

"God, pet," Spike's voice rumbled out as their cocks slid together once more. He fought against the tequila clouding his thoughts, but the alcohol and his own arousal made it all but impossible to think about implications or ramifications as that warm body pulled him closer.

"Fuck me, Spike, please," Xander pleaded between kisses, not caring that his voice quavered with need and desperation. He shoved his tongue deep into Spike's mouth, tangling with the cooler tongue, sucking on it.

Rational thought checked out. Spike growled and in a move that left Xander gasping, had the man turned over and yanked up on hands and knees with the vampire draped over him, placing sucking kisses down his vertebrae, kneading the muscles of his ass that reflexively clenched and unclenched in response to the stimulation.

"Want you." Spike managed between kisses, only barely holding back his demon visage, fighting against the need to sink cock and fangs into the hot body writhing beneath him.

"Yes, now, please." Xander pressed his ass back, seeking Spike's erection, unaware of the wanton picture he made.

Spike groaned as his cock slid between taut buttocks, rubbing over that rosy hole, but he had enough presence of mind to keep from simply slamming in. Unwilling to disentangle and search for lube, he vamped out briefly and bit his own tongue, working up a mixture of saliva and blood to coat his fingers before pressing into the welcoming hole.

As a single finger pressed inside him, Xander pressed back, needing more, not wanting gentleness. Spike got the message and quickly inserted another finger, reaching deep for that bundle of nerves waiting just there for his touch. Raking his fingers across it earned him a strangled moan as Xander pushed back again. Scissoring his fingers, Spike quickly prepared the passage for his cock, knowing that neither of them could hold back much longer.

As he pulled his fingers out and lined up his cock, he clenched fingers into Xander's hip, holding him steady, losing himself to the blast of arousal and desperate desire emanating from the man beneath him. Slowly he pressed in, overwhelmed by Xander's need for him and giving himself over to the burning heat and tightness around his cock.

"So good, luv."

"Fuck me. Fuck me." Xander chanted. His head thrashed and his arms shook, awareness narrowing to the cock filling him, the hard hand gripping his hips. For so long he had wanted this, with this vampire, and it felt better than he had ever imagined.

Control shattered, Spike roared and began to piston hard and deep, ravaging the body beneath him. He slid a hand around to grasp Xander's leaking cock, stripping it with a punishing rhythm.

"Mine. Yer mine. So fucking beautiful."

"Yes, god, Spike!" Xander felt himself so close, clenched his ass hard around Spike's cock, expressing his need in the only way he could.

Spike felt himself crashing toward orgasm, needing only a bit more to reach that point of whiting out where all became bodies and pleasure. In that moment, Xander tilted his head, exposing the long line of neck to the vampire. Spike's brutal rhythm faltered for a moment in response to that show of trust and desperate need. Need for him? Or need for the bite? A small voice managed to cut through his tequila and lust-soaked mind.

"Please, Spike, please. Need. Need you." Xander's hips jerked, fearing the withdrawal, and nearly crying as he berated himself for unthinkingly reminding the vampire of biting, but the need for those fangs had him shuddering.

Xander's words had Spike snapping into game face, reacting purely on instinct. His fangs ached along with his cock, needing the stimulation of flesh parting underneath him, hot blood racing across his tongue. He raked his eyes over Xander's back and neck as he continued to fuck them both toward orgasm. Close, he narrowed his golden eyes, picking his point of entry, enjoying the tanned skin with the blood beating so close to the surface. Whereas Xander's arms and thighs had multiple bite marks, his neck was unscathed. Despite of his disapproval of Xander's feeding himself to vampires, he couldn't help but be pleased to see that the man had avoided letting them place a killing (or claiming, his insecurities added) bite on his neck. Pleasure thrummed through him at the primal urge to take and claim this man as his own.

Spike reared back thrusting hard, preparing for the bite that would send them both spiraling into orgasm. Just before he struck, his eyes made out an old scar on the left side of Xander's neck where it joined with the shoulder, and the resulting rage caught him off-guard, had him biting harder than he intended as he instinctively moved to obliterate the mark. Angel's mark. A mark he carried on his own skin and knew too intimately to not recognize.

Xander jerked as he felt fangs bury deep in his neck, and suddenly he was flying. His orgasm hit harder than he anticipated, taking him out of himself into that white space where all was cumming and the glorious pull of blood and the overwhelming feeling of being wanted. He gave over to the sensation, feeling his cock jerk, spurting cum over the cool hand that gripped him, flinging him into the welcoming blackness as he passed out.

The blood that rushed over Spike's tongue, yanking his orgasm out along with Xander's and he rode out the bucking figure, slowing his sucking as he felt the man succumb to unconsciousness beneath him. Carefully, he withdrew fangs and laved the bite mark with his tongue to still the bleeding as he lowered both of them to the bed, still buried deep in Xander's ass, enjoying the pulsing of Xander's blood around his softening shaft even as his mind raced.

Angel's mark. Xander wore Angel's mark. The despair that had been held at bay flooded back. His sire had been here first, had tasted Xander and who knew what else. Jealousy burned in the pit of his stomach. Where he once feared that Xander was using him--consciously or unconsciously--to meet his addiction to vampire bites, he now had a new and more threatening fear: that Xander used him as a substitute for a specific vampire, one who had clearly bitten him a long time ago but was not forgotten. And stupid Spike, he had brought the man right back to that vampire, ensconcing him in Angel's hotel.

Carefully, Spike withdrew himself from the sleeping man, noting the peaceful, blissful look on that often pained face. He pulled the covers over Xander with shaking hands, enduring the sobriety that seemed to have come on the wake of his discovery of Angel's mark. With that image burned into his mind, he couldn't stay a moment longer in the room and he gathered his clothes, jerking on pants and not bothering to button his shirt as he slunk from the room.

He stumbled into the hall, trying to find escape from his thoughts. Under an Exit sign, a doorway opened to stairs that he followed up and up until he emerged on the roof. When he reached the rooftop, he suddenly wished he had remembered to bring the tequila along with him, even though he knew it would wash that wonderful taste of Xander's blood from his mouth. He slid his tongue over his teeth, savoring the flavor, trying to stave off the feelings and thoughts that warred inside him. Among them, guilt stood out.

He had bitten Xander. Bitten him fewer than twenty-four hours after promising him that he would not feed into the addiction, promising to take care of the man and go slow. But his own pain and need drove him to break that promise, to take with no consideration of the consequences.

He huddled against the wall around the roof, wrapping his arms over his head. So much for the soul keeping him from being an evil, raping bastard. It didn't matter that Xander wanted, Spike took more than he should have, took without consideration, took in pure selfishness and rage at seeing Angel taking one more thing from him. He couldn't bear the thought of returning to that room or to the man sleeping there. Maybe he should have stayed in the ashes of Sunnydale, and the sunshine never felt so appealing as it did now, knowing that in a moment of selfishness and anger he had betrayed both himself and Xander. The man wanted Angel, and Spike delivered him to Angel's doorstep. Only his sire had more control than he ever did, and Xander needed someone who could protect him from himself. Angel's control would allow him to do that where Spike's selfishness could not. He keened quietly to himself as he mourned for something over before it had truly begun.

Downstairs, Xander slept with a peace that he had not felt in the years since Sunnydale, perhaps in the years since one glorious night in Oxnard when he felt a satiation for needs he had hardly known how to name.