A Spandery Fairy Tale (part 1 of 6)(*Complete*)

(A/N: Co-authored with Nash)


Still reeling from the kiss, Spike locked gazes with Xander and did as he demanded. Quickly, he peeled his black tee shirt off, tossing it on the ground. Xander's eyes went impossibly darker. The searing heat of his gaze traveling down the alabaster expanse of his chest and abdomen. Spike's stomach muscles contracted. Swallowing hard, he unbuckled his belt. The clinking of the hardware was the only sound in the room. Then came the umistakeably sound of his zipper. Hands on his waist, he shoved his trousers down to the ground and stepped out of them.

Xander's hungry but definitely unfriendly expression sent a shiver down Spike's back. Dressed only in his boxers, he felt exposed and vulnerable. "What now?" he cocked his head, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Xander breathed slowly, trying to calm himself down. Spike was...perfect. Xander had always found imperfections in the men he chose to spent the night with, too tall, too short, too skinny, too muscle-bound. Spike was absolutely flawless. Even the tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose were beautiful.

"Fuck..." he finally murmured, more an exclamation than an answer to Spike's question. He reached out to trace the line of Spike's collarbone, his hand trembling slightly. "Perfect..."

Spike reflexively leaned his head back slightly, shivering at the light touch. The word should make him feel better, but it didn't. Of course he was perfect, his kind always were. But Xander wasn't really seeing him, or talking to him. Not really.

Xander stepped closer, unable to resist the lure of that body, his hand drifted down, pressing on a nipple just so he could see it harden. "So damn gorgeous." He licked his lips, and leaned forward to taste Spike, nudging the blond's head back, softly pressing his lips on the pale neck. He felt as if he'd been wanting to do this forever. Xander closed his eyes and inhaled the half remembered smell, feeling his cock twitch at the mere thought of having this, having Spike. Then he finally opened his lips, his tongue darting out to have a taste.

The slow drags of Xander's moist tongue flicking across sensative skin of his throat sent shocks rippling through Spike. He'd wanted this from the first moment he'd seen Xander all grown up. A part of him said it was wrong to feel this way. Friends didn't do this... that's what they were. But the minute a warm, callused hand scraped across his chest, he stopped worrying about wrong and right.

With a low murmur, he pressed up closer, rubbing against the rough material of Xander's jeans. The boy was hot and hard underneath, just as ready. "Please." In the old days, Boy would never say no to his pleas for anything. Would he hear the plea now?

Xander moaned against Spike's skin, lost in the taste and feel of it. Spike's words intruded in his senses, reminding him who this was. Xander had always given Spike everything he wanted, all the fairy had had to do was look up at him and say 'please'. Please boy, I'm hungry and Xander would give him the last of his twinkie. Please boy Xander, I'm bored and Xander would drop everything to play with him. And Spike still left him. Xander had given him everything and Spike had left.

He stepped back, his hands going to his own clothes, tugging them off hastily. He only paused a moment to point to Spike's boxers, "Those too, take them off."

Without hesitation, Spike bent and pulled his shorts down. As he rose, he found himself faced with a pair of sunkissed legs, powerful, sculpted. His gaze lingered on a scar above one knee. His heart ached, ached so hard he dropped back down on his knees and wrapped his arms around Xander's legs, rubbing his cheek across his thigh. He started kissing his thighs, first one, then the other, trailing hot wet kisses in small circles. Stopping to trace the jagged scar with his tongue, before looking up, eyes filled with shame.

Xander moaned as he saw Spike drop to his knees like that. His pleasure was cut short when Spike started tracing the scar on his leg. He'd always been self-conscious about that and to have anyone give it attention was a surefire was of making him tense up. To have Spike do it just made him angry. Ignoring the sad look Spike was giving him he threaded his fingers in Spike's hair and tugged him up to his cock.

"Alright." Sliding his hand up Xander's inner thigh, Spike wrapped his hand around Xander's shaft. He tugged lightly, started stroking him, back and forth. Swallowing as the cock in his hand grew and hardened. Hand still holding him, he moved his mouth over Xander's tip, running his tongue around, and sucking him, enflaming his lust. Though he was unaware of it, his other hand was massaging Xander's thigh, feeling the rippling muscles tighten as the boy strained to get closer.

Xander moaned and thrust lightly, trying to hold back. No matter what, he never hurt people, not physically. He spread his legs and leaned against the back of the couch, giving himself over to the sensations. He was so close...just a few moments of Spike's mouth on him and he was ready to burst. He pulled Spike back, looking down to find blue eyes looking up at him, heavy lidded and shining with lust.

"Want to fuck you," he murmurmed, the tight hold on Spike's hair gentling as he run his fingers through the curls. He pulled Spike up and with him to the bedroom.

Want to love you Spike allowed himself to get dragged into the bedroom, eyeing Xander when the boy kicked the door shut.
And then Xander's arms were around him, his cock pressed up hard against Spike's left cheek. Need. There was so much of it. He could hear it in Xander's labored breath. In the desperate way Xander pushed him toward the bed. Grinding his ass into Xander, he reached behind, gripping his thigh, encouraging him. Maybe this would make it better between them. Turning his head slightly, he smiled.
There was no return smile. Just heat. Raw, aching heat in the way Xander looked at him. "Please... Xan..."

"That doesn't work anymore," Xander muttered, turning Spike around to capture his lips again. He pushed Spike on the bed, kneeling between the blond's spread legs, looking down at the hard cock, perfect as the rest of him. Xander hated this, hated how his body reacted to Spike like that. He hated that part of him that wanted to smile at Spike and make it all better, hated Spike for leaving him, for coming back like this. He took Spike's cock in his hand, moaning softly at the feel of that hardness on his skin, not even realizing that he'd said those thoughts out loud.

White hot heat had Spike almost come off the bed. Only Xander's firm hand on his abdomen held him in place. Squirming, lifting his pelvis, craving more pressure, he rasped. "I'm sorry... so so sorry. Xan."

"Shut up. You don't get to say that, you don't get to leave and then say that," Xander pushed his mouth against Spike's, desperate to shut him up as much as to taste him. Any more of this and he would break, he couldn't afford to break, he hadn't done it since he was seven years old. He thrust his tongue roughly inside Spike's mouth, pressing his body down against his and grinding their cocks together.

Spike wanted to talk. God how he wanted to, but his body had other ideas. Surging against Xander, he groaned at the flood of feelings washing over him with every stroke of that tongue. Rough or not, the boy knew what he was doing. Every fibre of Spike's body responded, tongue slid against tongue, bodies came together. His body came alive with a vengeance, sensitive, needy. As the pressure built, he groped Xander's ass, pulling him closer, swallowing the plea stuck in the back of his throat.

Xander was torn between the need to keep going, keep thrusting against Spike until he found his release and the need to push inside that hot body.

"Nee-no...want more..."

He moved off Spike, fumbling with the bedside table's drawer until he could pull it open and get the lube. He turned back to glance at Spike and the sight made him move that much faster, tugging at the cap until it broke open.

"Don't want to need this...don't want to," he muttered as he returned to kneel in front of Spike. He pushed a pillow under the blond's back and slicked one finger, looking into Spike's eyes as he pushed it inside.

Want you to need this. Want you to need more. Spike rolled his head back as he closed around Xander's finger. "More," he thrust up, meeting air, "pl.... " That hadn't worked too well before. "Fuck me. Just do it," he reached down and grabbed Xander's hips, trying to pull him up over his body.

Xander resisted the move, anxious to do this right. He quickly added another finger, trying to get Spike as open as he could, as fast as he could. He ignored the whimpers and demands aimed his way, until he thought Spike's body was ready for more. Then he finally allowed the blond to pull him up, and took hold of Spike's hips, tilting them up as he pushed inside, burying himself in Spike's body.

The initial flash of pain dulled quickly. If anything, Spike was surprised by Xander's gentleness... and the fact he hadn't had him turn over. This was a lot more intimate, or maybe it hadn't occured to him. He started to buck, urging Xander on, kneading his back, taking harsh breaths as each thrust took him closer to the edge.

He focused on Xander's face. The intensity of the boy's expression was enough to make him want to explode then and there. And when his mouth parted, when he breathed out some sounds, Spike started jerking up... demanding more, harder, faster... he needed this. He needed Xander now.

Xander barely realized that he was calling out Spike's name, telling himself that Spike was real. He focused on the physical pleasure, the feeling of Spike's hands on his body, the tight heat surrounding his cock. Bracing his arms on either side of Spike's head, he leaned down for a hard kiss, moving his hips more and more erratically as he finally found his release.

He'd never been with a human before. He had an inkling it wouldn't be the same with just any human. This one was special. This one was his, as much as he'd been Xanders. Lost in emotions and sensations, the sudden kiss surprised him... it was his undoing. A moment later, he was shattering into a million pieces, hoarsely crying out Xander's name, holding him tight... refusing to let him move away. He ran his knuckles over Xander's cheek, but pulled his hand away like it had been burned. "Sorry," he whispered, taking a breath.

Sorry for letting you down. Sorry for leaving you alone. Sorry for letting Big One hurt you. Sorry for all the time we lost.

Xander ignored the words, ignored the tears running down his cheeks and just let his body relax against Spike. He just needed to rest a moment, then he'd tell Spike to go. He just needed a few moments to relax.

*

Xander woke up feeling calm and at peace for the first time in years. He smiled a little to himself and tried to stretch his body, his smile fading as he realized that there were arms holding him close, hindering his movements. Spike. Spike was still here. Xander pushed the arms away, angry at himself for letting Spike stay, even angrier that the blond had managed to make him feel better in one night than anyone else had managed to do in years.

You can't rely on him, he left remember? He left and he going to leave again but this time you'll be the one telling him to go.
Xander got out of the bed, not looking at the stirring blond in it. He pulled his robe on, and walked towards the door.

"Your one night is over. Get out," he said, just before he left the room.

The harsh words and tone interrupted Spike's dreams, bringing reality crashing down around his head. He and Xander were not friends again. There would be no going to human movies, or one of those amusement parks Boy had talked about and that he'd been dying to see all these years. There would be no safety in the crook of Boy's neck, not for Spike... not anymore.

Reluctantly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Listening to the sounds coming from the kitchen. Though he didn't expect anything... a word, a thank you, a goodbye, he did wonder if he could get away with asking for a cup of coffee. Maybe talking Xander into making one of Mom's specialties. The thought of peanut butter sandwhiches made his stomach growl. He was hungry.

He'd put his boxers on and was reaching for his leather pants when he was overpowered by a scent he knew so well. Copper and spice. Xander's blood. It called to him as strong as ever. Stronger, now that his diet was mostly blood. Almost blind with intense need, Spike stumbled into the kitchen, eyes laser focused on Xander... on the finger Xander had sliced...

Xander glared at his bleeding finger, cursing himself for being so clumsy. He'd been trying to cut a slice of cheese but he'd somehow managed to take his finger with it.

"This is what you get for using a knife when your hands are trembling you idiot," he muttered, "and where do you get off getting upset over that asshole anyway. He left you remember? Fuck, I'm talking to myself. First sign of madness all because of a stupid fairy. You'd think seeing fairies would be the first sign of madness. And now I'm babbling to myself. Just. Fucking. Perfect." Xander banged his forehead on the cupboard over the counter and closed his eyes, trying to win back some self-control.

The cursing, the anger... it should have stopped Spike. But it didn't. In two long strides, he was in front of Xander, taking his hand and closing his mouth over the bleeding finger.

Ecstacy. That's what Xander tasted like.

Xander stared at Spike, eyes growing wider as he felt the blond’s tongue flickering over his finger. At first he’d been too shocked to push Spike away but now, now his body was responding and Xander couldn’t help but moan and push his finger that little bit inside Spike’s mouth.

Spike's entire body reacted. His blood surged, roaring in his ears. A craving he knew from way back when, only stronger, and less innocent overcame him with a vengeance. Flicking his tongue around the wound one last time, he drew the finger out of his mouth.

When Spike moved his mouth away Xander moaned in disappointment, but before he had a chance to protest, Spike had walked behind him, pressing his front against Xander’s back and pulling him in an embrace.

He didn't want to go. Couldn't. Not when Xander's blood was singing to him, calling him, filling his mind and soul with need. Though Xander wasn't pulling away from him, not yet... he was tense. Spike tried to get access to his throat, but ended up rubbing his mouth across Xander's ear.

If he begged, if he asked, he knew the answer would be no. Xander would come to his sense. He'd send him away. Make him leave though he was raging with this sweet and terrible craving that no one else could satiate.

Slowly... hesitently, he slipped his hand into Xander's robe, moving his palm up and down, then in circles, each one closer to his cock. The way the boy's robe was jutting out, he was having his own troubles.

Xander’s breath caught as he felt Spike’s hand slip under his robe, moving in soothing circles over his skin, making him want more. His hands gripped the edge of the counter as he told himself not to move, not to want, not to need damnit. But he could feel Spike’s warm breath against his ear and the hand was now loosely circling his cock, his body would not be denied.

He thrust his hips forward into Spike’s fist, his breathing growing more laboured as Spike gave him what he wanted, both hands working him now, one on his cock, the other pinching and tugging at his nipples. Xander’s head fell back on Spike’s shoulder, eyes closed against the feelings the blond provoked.

“Spike…please…”

"Whatever you want. Always... whatever you want," Spike felt his fangs extend. He scraped them lightly across Xander's vein, felt him loll his head back even more, needing it... not knowing what it was, but he wanted it, as much as Spike.

Hearing a tortured murmur, he whispered, "I'm right here." Pressing his teeth down, he gained quick entrance into the vein. Hot, sweet, spicy liquid raced into his mouth, making him go as hard as Xander.

Closing his fist tighter around Xander, he increased the pressure, stroking him, feeling him thrust harder and harder into his hand, as he sucked harder on the wound in his throat. Neither one had any control over what they did anymore. None.

Spike's mind was a red haze of lust. The movements of his hand became more desperate, as did the grinding of his hips against Xander's ass. The scraps of cloth between them was frustrating, but he was too far gone to do anything about it. And when Xander started to make sounds... started to shake and shudder in his arms, white hot heat inched through every vein in Spike's body. He was burning up... taking his boy with him.

Xander hadn’t been sure what he’d been pleading for but the second he felt Spike’s heat inside him he knew. One hand snaked around Spike’s head, pulling him closer while the other reached back to grab anything of his, landing on his ass and pushing him closer to him. He could feel Spike’s cock hard against him, and for a moment he wondered what it would feel like to have him inside. Phantom feeling of what that might be like and Xander was frantically thrusting into Spike’s fist, pushing his ass back to get as much of that hardness as he could.

He felt Spike stiffen up, heard him groan against his shoulder, the vibrations moving through Xander’s body and pushing him over the edge.

Xander nearly collapsed from the intensity of his orgasm, slumping against Spike, letting himself enjoy being held by him. The arm holding Spike’s head to him loosened, unconsciously touching the place he’d felt the heat before coming down. Xander sighed softly and opened his eyes, immediately stiffening and pulling away from Spike.

“Blood? There’s blood!” His hand went back to the heat, and came back covered with small traces of blood. “What did you do to me? What…get out. Get out now!” Xander pushed Spike further away from him, stared in horror for a moment before retreating to the living room. He had to think…he had to…Spike bit him? How? What had…damnit he couldn’t think!

Stumbling back, Spike saw the sheer horror in Xander's expression. It had been beautiful, they'd been one in so many ways... but Boy didn't think so. Reverting to his childhood name, Spike ran a hand over his face. There would be no talking. Not today.

In absolute silence, he returned to the bedroom and finished dressing. The indentations in the two pillows, overlapping slightly, made him ache. He hurt for Xander, and he hurt for himself.

Xander stayed in the living room, pacing until Spike emerged from the bedroom looking hesitant and sad. Xander merely looked coldly at the blond, watching as he left his home.

“And good riddance to you,” he snapped after the door closed.

*

Xander walked home from work, looking around as he walked, searching for the familiar figure around him. He pretended not to be disappointed when there was no sign of Spike anywhere.

I told him to go and he went. Why am I so surprised anyway, not like he hasn’t done it before.

He kept telling himself that until he reached his door.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his tone at odds with the relief running through him at the sight of Spike once again leaning against his door.

Spike searched his face. Still no sign of the boy he knew. If only they could talk. If only he could tell him the things in his heart.

"Got nowhere else to go," he said, eventually. "We Fey sorts can't go around finding housing here, yeah? Someone has to take us in. Usually a child takes pity." His eyes clung to Xander's begging him to remember... remember taking him in. Remember their bond.

“Yeah…children are dumb like that,” Xander whispered, fighting back the memories. He didn’t need to remember how much fun he’d had with Spike, how good it’d felt to have someone love him like that. All he needed to remember was that Spike had left.

Not saying another word, he went into the apartment, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it for support. Spike’s presence affected him more than he wanted to admit. He was beginning to remember what it had been like before, when he could laugh without wondering what was coming next.

With a heavy sigh he pushed off the door and went to the bathroom. He ignored his body’s reaction to seeing Spike again, willing his erection away. He didn’t want to think about this. He pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner. Xander waited for the microwave to ping, absently scratching his scar. It was a while before he realized that something was wrong.

“What the…”

He looked down to verify what he’d felt. The scar was gone. It was just…gone.

“What the hell did he do to me?”

Instead of anger, his voice was filled with awe. Xander couldn’t understand what was happening. Spike was real and he was back and he acted like he cared for him. But that just didn’t make sense. Nobody cared for him except for maybe Willow. And Spike had left, how could he care, he’d abandoned Xander. You don’t leave the ones you care about, Xander knew that much.

Xander abandoned the idea of dinner and just went to bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling and trying to make sense of the situation until his brain just gave out and he fell asleep.

*

For hours, he'd walked the street. Didn't have that many options really. He could find a child to *adopt* him. But really there was only one child he wanted, and that one's childhood was not only gone, but it was dead. He could go back to the land of the Fey. A little of the right sorts of nectar, and thoughts of drowning in soulful brown eyes, of laughing with Xander... of food fights, and a hundred ways of breaking in a bed, wouldn't torture him.

Or... he could find himself in front of this closed door. Day after day. Night after night.

Making a face at the thought, he shifted to fairy form. Dropping to the ground, and then zipping right up. He went around the building, and found the window to Xander's room. It was open. Long gone were the days when he'd keep it tightly closed to make sure his fairy didn't leave him.

Without a by your leave, Spike flew inside, spinning in circles around Xander's head. Eyes closed deep in sleep, mouth soft and pliable, not hard and angry, he could see the innocent child in Xander again. Maybe tomorrow would be the day.

Fighting the urge to land on the bad. To either sleep in the nape of his neck, or to shift forms and hold him tight, he flew to the chest of drawers in the corner of the bedroom and looked for a place to rest. The tissue box worked for him.

Rolling on his stomach, Spike neatly retracted his wings. Xander had chased the nightmares away last night. Maybe it would be the same tonight. He was close after all... and he could smell the boy's scent around him. "No dreams. No bloody dreams tonight," he ordered out loud, and closed his eyes.