All I Need...

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Part 33

His head was pounding when he woke. Then again, so was his ass, and it was that second throbbing that had him groaning as the memories of the previous night flooded back to him.

He’d tried to leave. Tried to leave his Xander!

And while it hadn’t worked out that way, he still couldn’t believe that he’d really intended to just… go.

Still he had meant to do just that, although Spike truly doubted that he would have gotten far.

No… judging from the man’s reaction to the idea alone, if Spike had actually managed to leave the building with a bag, his Xan would have been after him within hours if not minutes, and… and he would have found himself right back here in their rooms anyway. After he’d been shagged bloody wherever his love found him, of course, which he was in the end, anyway, and hadn’t that been sodding intense?

Then again, he reminded himself with a smirk before the swift change of expression pulled a moan from him, his bloke had been on the receiving end of being literally shagged bloody, too.

It had been… perfect, the vampire admitted silently, but… bloody hell, how could he have even thought of leaving, much less have packed?

He wasn’t sure, honestly, but thought it might have something to do with how… dejected he’d felt then.

He wasn’t feeling that way anymore, though. In fact, he was nearly vibrating with pure contentment, aching ass and throbbing head not withstanding.

He stretched slowly, feeling the vertebrae in his spine popping softly and he moaned again, this time happily as the action relieved the tension in his back.

Xander chuckled silently, watching his vampire’s pale skin as it moved, slid smoothly over muscle and bone. “Morning, baby,” he murmured, shifting closer to press himself tightly to Spike’s back, “Feeling better…?”

He chuckled again, aloud this time, as the sensation of his hardened shaft pressing into the cleft of the blond’s ass earned him a soft hiss. “Still a little tender, huh?” he whispered, lips against one white ear as his hands stroked defined abs slowly.

“Bloody hell, Xan…” Spike groaned, one hand sliding behind him to grip tightly at a warm hip, “Soddin’ sore is what I am, luv… think ya broke me, mate.”

Brown eyes crinkled at the corners as Xander gently slid one hand up, skimming over ribs before finding a small, flat nipple. His fingers pinched softly, working the tiny point into a tight peak as he pressed his hips closer still, his other hand slipping down to cup lightly haired balls.

“Mmmm… broke you, baby?” he breathed, nipping almost roughly at the lobe of Spike’s ear, “I don’t think so. Maybe bent you a little, but you had it coming, didn’t you? You tried to leave me, Spike. I couldn’t let you do that. The hyena couldn’t let you do that.”

His lips slid down, teeth scraping harshly over the vampire’s long, pale neck. “Hell, love. You’re lucky we didn’t just chain you to the bed and fuck you unconscious, over and over, for a week or two.”

And bloody hell, the thought alone was enough to have Spike’s cock surging to full mast. “I… bloody… fuck, Xan! Sorry, aren’t I? W-wasn’t rightly… myself, was I…?” he moaned, his neck arching wickedly against the blunt teeth.

Xander nodded slightly, teeth fastened on the fragrant flesh as his tongue laved the bit of skin between his lips before he released it and pressed himself harder between the toned, tense cheeks. “I know, love,” he said, a slight tinge of sorrow in his voice, “And that’s my fault. I was so busy trying to keep you safe, I didn’t even notice that I was denying you what you needed.” He sighed and bit softly at the blond’s shoulder once more. “Believe me, baby… I won’t let it happen again. I’m so sorry, Spike… so sorry, love… Didn’t mean to hurt you… never want to hurt you…”

It was the obvious sincerity in the man’s tone that had Spike’s fingers tightening on that hip, even as he raised his top leg slightly, his knee bending to rest his ankle on his Xan’s lower thigh. “D-didn’t… hurt me, luv… was scared, ‘s all…” He gasped, face flicking quickly to true at the sharp, rough burn of the thick, hot shaft pressing against his abused and aching anus. “F-felt like I was… l-losin’ ya… an’ didn’t know how ta… s-stop it…”

“Shhhh… shhhh, baby… never gonna lose me, Spike… not ever…” he murmured, pulling the arm around his vampire’s chest higher, holding his wrist to sharp, jagged teeth. “Drink, baby. Taste me… right here, here with you…” And as those teeth slipped slowly into the offered flesh, Xander pressed forward, biting his lip as he felt just the seeping tip of him push through the tight, resistant ring at his Spike’s opening. “God, love…”

Bloody fucking hell, that hurt! But it felt good, too… and as his Xander went deeper, opening him wider, filling him to breaking, the good far outweighed the pain. “B-bloody… fuck, luv… just… yah, pet…” he moaned against the skin pressed to his lips, his hips rocking back into the slow, gentle thrusts. “D-don’t stop…”

“Never stopping, baby. Never gonna let you forget how much you’re mine… how much I’m yours…” the brunette whispered, teasing his vampire’s other nipple for a few moments before sliding his fingers slowly down the arching torso to ghost lightly over Spike’s straining shaft. “Shouldn’t have listened to them about the blood, Spike… ‘cause you drank me, baby… drank me nearly dry… and you’re fine, aren’t you? Sore, even, and tighter than usual… God, Spike… Fuck, love… gonna slide in and out of you for hours, keep you so close and never let you cross that line…”

He chuckled low and deep, sucking the pale lobe into his mouth again and biting down hard enough to pull a whimpered hiss from his lover. “And when I can’t take it anymore… when the blood-sex-seminal-mine scent is about to make me crazy, Spike…”

The vampire groaned and forced his lips from the bleeding wrist, trying to shift his hips faster as his blokes words filled his mind, senses swimming with the sensation of being exactly where he was meant to be. “Y-yah, pet…? What th-then…?” his spine curled forward then back as the big, warm hand on his cock slid effortlessly over smooth, silken skin with the slick aid of his own fluids.

Xander came as close to purring as the hyena spirit could manage as he pressed himself deep again, hips rolling slowly in small, tight circles within the blissful sheath of Spike. “Then I’m gonna cum, baby… cum so long and deep in you, love, that you’ll be able to taste me… fill you so full, Spike… never be able to get my scent out of you.” His lips moved from the sleek curve of his blond’s ear, finding the crook of the man’s neck after a slow, leisurely lap down the sinfully soft skin between. “Gonna stroke you, milk you, baby… and by then, Spike…? You’ll be so ready, so desperate to cum… it’s gonna feel like your entire body’s exploding.”

“S-sounds messy, luv…” he somehow managed to say, eyes closing tightly as those blunt teeth pinched his skin hard, then harder still, and when he felt them break skin, felt his Xander’s tongue lapping at the slow, thick blood, it was all he could do not to shout. “P-pet, Xan, luv, mine… bloody hell Xander, yes! D-drink me, pet… need this, need this, need you, need… b-bloody…” And the healing wound on his bloke’s wrist called to him, pulling sharp fangs back to reopen it tenderly.

His growl was possessive, Xander knew, even muffled by the blood filling him. Still that was as it should be, he figured. He was possessive, and… his fingers closed tightly around the base of his vampire’s seeping shaft, deliberately staving off his love’s imminent orgasm. He fully intended to keep his word to Spike, after all, and… but then again, let his vampire cum. Let him cum again and again, until the blond despaired of ever feeling him cum.

Yeah, he thought, eyes flashing wicked green as he slowed his steady swallows of his love’s essence. His vampire deserved a bit of punishment for trying to leave him, and if that punishment was enjoyable for the both of them, then so much the better.

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The girl was driving him insane. There was no question about that. She was driving him completely, inarguably barmy, and Giles had rather more than a sneaking suspicion that she was doing it on purpose.

There was nothing he could point to and tell himself ‘ah-hah! There’s the proof!’. Of course there wasn’t. Fran was far too smart for that. She was smart enough, actually, that if it weren’t for the fact that he knew she was doing it deliberately, he would think he was imagining it.

First there were the endless hours she’d taken to spending in his library-cum-office—far more time than she’d habitually spent there although she had the handy excuse of researching Morah demons and using the computer to generate a ‘genetic blueprint’ as she called it of what might be the effects of a Primal carrying that blood… and another set of ‘blueprints’ of the various possible outcomes should a vampire feed on that Primal. Entirely theoretical, of course, she said, but still…

Secondly, of course, was the way she’d been flaunting herself during those hours.

Not that she’d changed her mode of dress in the slightest, because she hadn’t. In fact, she’d made no effort to draw attention to her young, strong body… she never even wore skirts to show off her long, toned legs. And she also hadn’t changed her minimal make-up or done anything different with her long, dark hair. It had always shone rather silkily, he admitted in his less lustful moments.

Third, fourth and fifth on his list were a slew of other things she wasn’t doing even remotely differently, but damn it, she had to be doing something! There was no other reason he’d be so bloody hyper-aware of her every movement, would there?

No, of course not, Giles answered himself, trying desperately to keep his eyes on the page in front of him rather than Fran’s soft, red lips as they nibbled so delicately at the end of her pen.

The girl was deliberately driving him bug-shagging-nuts-- as Spike had once phrased the degree of instability he was feeling after he’d gotten his soul, and how bloody sad was it that he only understood the phrase now?

Yes, it must be Fran’s doing. He’d never found himself attracted to one of his young charges before, and the girl was only seventeen! That was… sick on a level that Giles had never even imagined he could sink to.

Maybe the young Slayer was a witch, he thought, brow smoothing a bit at the thought. And if she was… no, she would have to be entirely untrained, so there was every chance that whatever she was doing was entirely subconscious in nature and not intentional, as he’d suspected for the last several weeks.

That had to be it, he told himself with a relieved smile. Fran was far too kind of a girl to inflict this sort of torment knowingly. Perhaps he should send her to Willow; allow the Premiere Wiccan to train her so that this sort of thing would never happen again. After all, it wasn’t every older yet distinguished gentleman who would have the strength to deny the pull of her unintended spell.

Yes… that would be for the best. It was rare for a Slayer with other powers to be Called, but not entirely unheard of. Willow would certainly be able to help Fran learn some control.

His smile faded just a bit as the ‘Ripper’ portion of his psyche flashed images of the slender redhead ‘controlling’ Fran through his mind but he pushed them away. Fran was obviously not gay; the witch would respect that.

Of course, Willow hadn’t been gay, once upon a time, either…

No, maybe he wouldn’t send the dark-haired young woman to Brazil after all. The coven in Essex would surely be able to assist the poor girl well enough.

They would have to.

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~From: Fran-tastic
~To: Two Eyed Terror
~Subject: Off his bloody rocker AGAIN!

Dear Xander,

Your bloody father figure has lost his bloody mind! He seems to believe that I’m a witch of all things! As if being a Slayer isn’t trouble enough!

Bloody… God, Xander, okay. Let me start at the beginning, then.

You know Giles and I have been researching the question of what your blood and your blood only—meaning your blood as his sole nutrition—might do to Spike, yes?

Well in the three weeks we’ve been focusing on that, Giles had gone entirely barmy. He’s been… twitchy around me, looking at me as though I’m likely to bite him out of nowhere or kiss him again, and now…

Bloody hell, Xander, now he’s decided that I’m a witch! He wants to send me to Essex to study with the coven there!

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was trying to get rid of me, but that can’t be it. Giles and I have always gotten along quite well. You know, in that ‘I somewhat scare and impress him with the way my mind works and he’s not quite sure of whether to thank me or spank me for it’ way.

I understand that attitude, honestly. It’s familiar, isn’t it? My whole life I’ve been treated in much the same manner by those in charge of me, starting with my parents and ending with Giles.

What I don’t understand is his recent change towards me and that’s why I’m writing to you now.

You know him better than most anyone, I think, so is there any way you can possibly find out what the bloody fuck his problem is? You’re his ‘son’. He might tell you and then you can tell me and I can find some way to fix things!

I do not want to go to Essex, Xander! There’s nothing there for me!

I’m smart, yes. And a Slayer, granted. But the truth is, I have no supernatural powers.

No other supernatural powers, I mean.

Besides, if I let Giles send me away, who’s going to look after him? The cook? Don’t make me laugh. She’s got anywhere between forty and sixty people to look after on a daily basis. She doesn’t even notice when Giles isn’t eating properly, and even though she does live within the House, she’s in bed by ten each night. How would she know if he was staying up all night with his bloody books and needed a bit of a nibble to keep his strength up?

You see, Xander? Giles needs me, even if he is too stubborn of a git to admit it! I shudder to think of how his health would degenerate if I were gone for two bloody years learning to control powers I don’t even have!

Please, Xander. Be a mate and talk to him? Bad enough that he’s treating me like some sort of dangerous animal, but if this doesn’t stop it’s going to drive me barmy, as well!

Thanks, bloke…

~Fran

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~From: Two Eyed Terror
~To: Fran-tastic
~Subject: Re: Off his bloody rocker AGAIN!

Hey, Fran. I’d ask how it’s going but I think I know. LOL

I don’t know what to tell you, though. I mean, I called him and everything was fine but as soon as I brought up your name he got all stuttery.

And did you say ‘kiss him again’? When did you kiss Giles? And… why?

Gah. Okay, now I’m all creeped out. Um, unless it was your birthday and he gave you some sort of really cool Slayer type gift. I bet that’s it, right? You were just excited and weren’t thinking. Yeah.

Okay. Still having a wiggins here, so moving on.

I guess I should have told you this before, but it’s only been a few days, so I guess now is as good a time as any.

I tried to be the responsible guy, okay? I mean, somebody had to and I think you know Spike well enough to know that the phrase ‘poor impulse control’ was probably created just for him, right? LOL

Well, anyway, I didn’t let him feed on me at all for a couple weeks. I made sure he had human, though, so don’t worry about his health, okay?

To make a long story really, really short, uh… it made him kinda crazy, he drank me again, and it didn’t really do anything to him other than make him not crazy. Or as not crazy as he ever was, anyway. LOL

I’ve been looking through some of Wesley’s old books, though—and I know, SO not the research-guy, right? But I guess I never really had a good enough reason to actually try before. Believe me when I say Spike is definitely a good enough reason for the ass-numbing hours I’ve been reading lately.

My point—and I do have one LOL—is that maybe my blood’s not dangerous to Spike because I’ve been drinking him, too. Does that make any sense?

I mean, I’m not healing any slower or anything, but maybe the vampire blood in me makes my blood safer for him?

I’m not sure yet, but I think that might be it.

And before you ask, No, I can’t send you the books I’ve been reading. They’re attached to Wolfram and Hart. Apparently trying to take them out of the building makes them scream really loud. Like... louder than a jet engine and don’t ask me how I know because I’m not telling.

Anyway, don’t worry. I’m not letting Spike drink only me anymore even if I do think it’s safe. He’s still on the bags of human. We just mix a little of mine in with it and when he does drink me, it’s only a few swallows and it’s while we’re… busy.

Okay, and how weird is it that I’m telling that to a seventeen year old girl? I could maybe go to jail for that, right? LOL

Oh, well. I guess Giles was right. You’re way more mature than your age.

All I can really say about Giles acting strange is… stick it out. I’m sure whatever’s bugging him will work itself out.

It might not be soon, though. He can be like a dog with a bone sometimes.

Good luck, Fran. And if you don’t want to go to Essex, don’t go. Or maybe get someone from the coven to come there and check you for magic or whatever it is they do. Willow would know, but I’m no Willow, which is a good thing because as much as I like women, I really don’t want to be a lesbian, and okay, that made NO sense so I’m going now. LOL

Take care of yourself. And Giles. No matter what he says, you’re right. He really does need someone to watch out for him. It might as well be someone he trusts, right?

~Xander

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~From: Clever Childe
~To: Fran-tastic
~Subject: Crazy Watcher-man

Hey, pet.

Yeah, it’s me, and I’m guessing you’ve figured out I read Xan’s mail from the subject line, right?

Look, luv, don’t know what my bloke told you to do about your little problem with Rupert, but seeing as I’ve been around for a good bit longer than either of them, thought I’d give you my tuppence worth.

Go to Essex, Franny.

Know you’re not a witch, alright? That’s not the bloody point.

Sounds like old Rupes needs some space, pet, and I’m not saying you’re crowding him, but speaking as a bloke myself, sometimes a man needs room to think.

And who’s to say Essex wouldn’t be a right good time? Probably don’t have a Slayer there, considering there’s a coven, right? Might be able to get some solo Slaying in, yeah? Or even get the witches to help you with that little ‘experiment’ you mentioned a while back.

Speaking of that, if you should happen to run into a vampire bloke name of Vlad, go for it. The bloody bastard still owes me, after all. Might be nice to get a bit of my own back through you. With adequate interest, of course. He’d be a right good subject for you; especially since he made my Xan eat bugs that time.

Do it, pet. Vlad would be perfect for your experiment. I’m sure of it. And I’m not quite sure I believe he’s really dust and gone. Always was a tricky bastard, that one. Of course, I’m trickier.

And yeah, I’m smirking, luv.

So go, Franny. To Essex. And have fun, yeah?

I’m not saying you should go for the two bloody years he’s taking about, but I’d be right surprised if you went and he wasn’t asking them to send you back inside a month.

Bloke might feel like you’re crowding him at the moment, pet, but a few weeks without you around to listen to his god-awful rambling monologues and he’ll be begging you to come home.

Just my opinion, of course, but mine is better than most.

Oh, and don’t worry ‘bout me and my bloke. Think we’ve got the blood thing figured out.

~Spike

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(A/N: Many thanks to TheShadowCat and chibifae for the reviews on part 32. Always appreciated, guys! *grins* Apologies for the amount of time it's taken me to update. Holiday Season is SO bad for writing/posting time. More soon. Promise. :))