All Hallows Eve
chapter 4.
Part 4.
Xander closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. *Can I say ‘wiggins’? No. This defies words. Even for me. Gotta be the weirdest thing ever and that’s saying something for living your whole life on the Hellmouth. Weirder than being a hyena. Weirdern thn the whole mummy girl and mantis thing. Wierder than being a soldier. Weirdest. Period.*
“H-how can you be that?” he stuttered. “You’re older than me!”
Spike gave an unnecessary and long-suffering sigh. “Are you blind? Look at him. Figure it out, stupid git.”
Xander just shook his head. “No. I can’t have a son that’s older than me and who looks like he just stepped out of a Conan flick.”
The vampire drew a leg up and rested his chin on his knee. “What d’you know about reincarnation?”
Seeing that Spike was serious Xander thought for a moment, not dismissing the question out of hand. “Nothing I guess, why?”
“ ‘Cause it’s the crux of the whole bloody issue, that’s why!” Spike turned to the spirit who had the temerity to look vaguely amused. “This is your show. Take it from here.”
“Nay, William, ye keep trying to avoid this. As if it weren’t about the two of you. This is not about meself and me da however touching thightight be.”
Spike glared and the spirit continued, “Fair enough. Alexander. *M‘athair*. This canna be easy to take all at once like this, but you must. There isna much time.” The spirit ran a ghostly hand though his hair and Xander was fascinated to see the ragged strands lift and move as if still alive. “Ye can call me Robert, Robbie, if ye like," he said, looking at Xander with what might have been hope in his eyes. Xander just nodded and the spirit, Robert, gave a small shrug. “I’m sure that William has told you about your death? Aye?” Xander nodded again. “Good. Then it shouldn’t be too hard to prevent it this time.”
“This time?” Xander could feel his blood pressure rising again.
“Oh aye. Happens every time. Without fail. The curse was a damned good one, William, ye should be pleased.”
Now Spike looked shocked. “What the bleedin’ hell does that mean?”
Robert shook his head. “In a minute. I have to know something first. William, do you still wish Alexander to die by fire on Samhain?”
Spike made a strangled sound before replying, “God. No.”
“That’s a start.” The spirit nodded. “Now listen to me, both of ye, because I don’ want to wait around, floating about with nothing to do, for another generation until I get another chance at ye. Got it?”
Xander and Spike nodded. “Of course, me lads, it mak gre great tale. All about love and murder and curses.” They just looked at him with wide eyes. “Ach. Come closer to me.” And without any protest they shuffled towards him, one on each side, until Xander swore he could smell the animal scent of the furs that his ’son’ wore. “Now, the best way to do this is to just take you back. Are ye ready?” He didn’t wait for their response before raising his hands above them and plunging the world into grey.
~*~*~
And now he was falling. Falling into a world of snow and smoke. Xander could sense Spike and Robert next to him, but he couldn’t see them. Then he heard Robert’s distinctive voice in his head, Feels like home, doesn’t it? Don’t worry. Yer just along for the ride. To see what ye can see. To feel what ye should feel. Look there-d’ye see? That’s yerself on that hill, looking up at the stars. Aye, and William and I are there with you.
He could see. He saw a man, wrapped in what looked like a large plaid blanket, standing on a craggy hill overlooking a black sea. It was Xander himself, with shoulder length hair, matted and tangled from the cold wind. Another man stood beside him, also looking at the sky; with his long blond hair shimmering in a starlit fall down his plcladclad back. There was also, as Robert had pointed out, a young boy, no more than nine or ten, scampering between the two older men, chasing moon beams that reflected on patches of snow.
A feeling of deep contentment stole over Xander as he observed this domestic scene, a feeling of warmth and love for family.
~*~*~
Scotland, 1662
William suddenly ceased his contemplation of the sky and whirled to catch the boy who had run past him. Picking up the child, he swung to face Alexander. The clean, sharp edges of his face were shadowed by the night, but Alexander could see the smile on his companion’s face as William drew him into a one-armed embrace while holding the laughing child in the other. As Alexander slipped easily into William’s arms he tilted his head down for a brief but passionate kiss.
The air was chill around them but William generated an unnatural amount of heat and Alexander basked in it and in the feel of William’s firm body pressed against him. He buried his face in William’s soft, blond locks, inhaling the scent of heather that always clung to the man. William let Robbie slide from his arms and return to his games just in time as Alexander, in a rare moment of exuberance, tumbled the smaller man to the ground. They wrestled for several minutes, ending with William pinning Alexander by straddling his wriggling hips and capturing his flailing wrists above his head in an iron grasp.
Alexander laughed. He truly laughed, gasping for breath. His heart felt light and free for a brief moment. He didn’t object when William began to nibble on his neck; he melted into the fluttery sensation that William’s lips and teeth always brought him. He continued to lie passively when William released his wrists and began to push his plaid away from his chest, leaving only his soft linen shirt as a barrier to the blond’s seeking tongue. He only roused himself long enough to call out to his son, “Robbie, lad, can ye find yer way home?”
A far off giggle accompanied Robbie’s yell of, “On my way, da.”
Satisfied that his son knew the highlands as well as any grown man, Alexander returned his attention to William. “I suppose this means that we’re done with yer bloody astrology for the night, aye? You’ve gained all the wisdom from the heavens that you need this night?” William didn’t bother to answer. He was occupied with gently thumbing Alexander’s nipples through the shirt and mouthing his neck just above the collarbone. Alexander moaned and shivered a little. William, pleased at the response, shifted his hips to align his hardened member with that of his lover’s and slowly began to thrust. Even through the barrier of yards of plaid Alexander could feel William’s heat. He burned. He burned with life and with magic and with love. Out here, among the rocks, with pounding of the sea and only the glittering stars to witness, it was all right to burn. Here, he was free to lust and to love. To love William and his magic.
Alexander threaded his fingers through heavy locks of blond hair as William slithered down his body; nimble fingers already at work on the belt that held his heavy plaid in place, pushing the woolen fabric aside as it loosened. He could no longer keep silent when he felt William touch him, tease him through the cloth.
“Please, Will.”
“Please what, *mo luaidh*?” William asked as he continued to play his fingers lightly over Alexander’s straining member and down over his balls.
“Your mouth, love, take me . . .oh, aye. That’s it, Will. Oh, God in heaven . . .” Alexander’s breath hitched as William had ceased his teasing and took a firm hold of Alexander’s cock, pulling it deep into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the sensitive head, causing Alexander to mutter and tighten his already tangled grip on William’s hair. The blond slowly relaxed his throat while letting Alexander thrust into his mouth, enjoying his lover’s participation. The other man was rarely an active lover; this was a rare occasion.
It didn’t take long, as Alexander felt himself slide into William’s throat, for the tingling to build at the base of his spine and his balls to tighten. He let out a sharp cry and, holding William’s head steady, came with a shuddering gasp into the other man’s mouth. He felt immediate remorse and shame, as always. However, it was difficult to maintain the guilt when William crawled slowly back up his body and looked into his face with glassy blue eyes and a mouth red and swollen from Alexander’s use.
William sensed Alexander’s sudden withdrawal from him and was briefly angered at the predictability of it. He had played passive, happy to take advantage of his lover’s mood, but he was painfully aroused and he was not a man to go unsatisfied. He grasped Alexander’s cold hand and brought it to his still covered erection. Alexander was hesitant.
“I don’t know, Will, it’s getting cold an’ Robbie’s home alone. Aye?”
William shrugged and gave a languid wave of his ringed hand. The air shimmered around them and they were encased with balmy warmth. “If I’m not enough to keep ye warm then this should do until we’re done. And Robbie’s a braw lad. We’ve left him alone for days at a time before, love.”
Alexander knew he was defeated as he looked at William with his sleepy blue eyes and his tousled hair. His own arousal was creeping back. He gave William’s cock a gentle squeeze, secretly loving the solid feel of it in his hand. “I’ll take care of ye Will, I’m sorry. But then we really must get back to Robbie. We may have left him before, but these are unsettled times. It‘s not safe for us any more.”
William nodded and Alexander let himself be pulled down for a kiss. William tasted of ale and Alexander’s come. It was intoxicating. William’s tongue traced intricate patterns inside the other man’s mouth, sucking on his lips, while Alexander simply slid a questing hand underneath the other man’s plaid, not bothering with trying to unbelt it. Soon he was stroking his lover firmly, running his thumb over the head and using his other hand to caress William’s heavy balls, eliciting moans and hisses from the blond. But it was when he broke away from the kiss and latched onto William’s neck, biting delicately into the skin above the jugular, that William growled, arching tautly against him, and he could feel hot come spurt against his hand.
They lay in the grass for a time, needing to recover, running their hands over each other with William, always more comfortable in this situation, murmuring comforting words and endearments.
Alexander was the first to rise, kissing William briefly on the lips, and rearranging his clothes. “Come on then, Will.” He offered his hand to the blond, still lying sprawled on the ground.
William took his hand, and with a shake looked as if he hadn’t spent half the night rolling about in the frozen turf. He had no grass stains; no come stains and his clothes seemed dry. Alexander shook his head. “It’s things like that.”
“Things like what, love?” William asked, starting to walk down the hill, inhaling the sea air.
“The trick with y’er clothes. That’s what starts rumors about witches.” Alexander hurried to catch up. It seemed he was always a step behind the other man.
William threw a warm and dry arm around the larger man and when he spoke his tone was joking, although his eyes were serious. “But, my heart, I’m not a witch. I’m a warlock.”
NOTE ON GAELIC WORDS: *m’athair*-father, *mo luaidh*-my beloved, darling.
TBC