Awaken

It was crazy. Spike was trying to permeate every aspect of his life and Xander wasn’t sure how to stop him. Oh yeah, and this was only the second day after he’d managed to animate his statue. Dammit… he should know better than to try his hand at magic.


“What? I was just eating,” Spike said from across the breakfast table.


“I didn’t say anything.”


“You’re glaring at me, aren’t you. Did you want something?” The vampire drawled, his voice thick with insinuation.


“NO!” Xander had quickly learned what ‘do you want something’ meant… it was a trick question, which usually lead to sex. Hot, urgent, sweaty, mind blowing man-on-man sex. Which was bad. Right? Bad.


Spike smirked and poured cereal into his bowl.


“What?” This time it was Xander’s turn for paranoia.


“Nothing. Well... you shouted ‘no’... usually means ‘yes’.”


“Does not!”


“Did last night. ‘No, no... don’t stop... Spike, no... no...’” As the artist blushed, Spike gave an unapologetic shrug. “Thought it was strange, but cute.”


“It is not cute.”


“Sexy, then.”


“NO!”


“Is that a no, or a NO!?”


“I hate you,” Xander stormed to the door. “I’m going out. And no, you can’t go with me.” As he slammed the door behind him, he hardened his heart. Spike did look sad, and he had nowhere else to go, and yes it wasn’t his fault he was here... but still, the guy was damned exasperating. Plus he tied Xander up in knots, which wasn’t a good thing.


* * *


Hours later, well into the evening, Xander returned to find Spike still in the chair at the dinner table. “You haven’t been there all day, have you?”


Spike shrugged.


“How about the t.v.? You could have watched the t.v.! You know, sat on the sofa...” Guilt ate at him.


“Couldn’t figure out how to turn the bloody thing on.”


That was when Xander noticed it was unplugged. “Look, this goes here,” he demonstrated, “now it’ll work.”


“Fat bloody lot of good it’ll do me now. Right, never mind. I’m here for your pleasure, anyway. What’s your pleasure?” Spike got up, spun around and sat again, this time straddling the chair and leaning his arms on the back of the chair.


“You’re leering... stop that.”


“You’re leering right back. Don’t stop.”


“I... I am! Ugh. Well stop rocking like that.”


“Why?”


The way Spike sucked his cheeks in to give him a pouty smile made Xander’s heart leap against his chest, and his legs shaky. “W... why?”


“That’s right, luv. Why?” This time, Spike swung his knees back and forth, widening them and bringing them back into the side of the chair.


Xander couldn’t help but focus on Spike’s groin, and dammit... he’d gone from soft to hard, despite muttering his resistance mantra all day. He swallowed hard. “I’m... I’m going to bed.”


As he started heading for the bedroom, he suddenly felt Spike goose his ass, and shrieked. “What are you doing?!” His hands had flown protectively over his ass.


“Coming to bed. I’m ‘made for you’ and all that. Wouldn’t want you to have to take care of that all on your own, he answered, running three fingers down the ridge clearly visible through Xander’s jeans... and earning yet another shriek.


“No... not happening.” Xander marched out to his studio and brought the light, guest bed inside, and set it up in the bedroom. “You... there. Me... here. And stop looking at me like that. We’ll figure out what we’re doing with you tomorrow... but its not what you think.”

“That’s what you think.”


Xander all but growled in frustration at Spike’s belligerence as he quickly took his shirt off, slipped into bed and pulled his jeans off.


Spike, on the other hand, had no qualms about showing himself off.


The blond pulled his shirt up one inch at a time, revealing a sliver of perfect skin at his waist. Xander sucked his breath in as his creation’s chiseled abs and chest were revealed. The bastard was running his own hands over the planes of his chest, and making Xander want to do the same... making him want it so bad his hand was reaching between his own legs.


“Won’t be the same. Not once you’ve had a taste of me,” Spike smirked, unbuttoning his jeans and dragging it down his ass. His cock jutted out, as ready as it had been all night last night. “Let’s fuck.”


“What... NO!”


“NO?!”


“No,” Xander whispered.


“Bit hard to believe, what with your hand where it is. You imagining me on top of you?”


“Fuck no.” It was the truth... he was imagining himself all over Spike... fucking every perfect limb, ever powerful muscle carved into his thighs... his cock, his abs... fuck, he wanted it all. Cheeks burning, he shut the light with a decisive pull of a chain.


There were ten long minutes of silence. Xander’s heart was about to burst as it pumped his blood all the way down to his groin. He couldn’t get the images out of his head. His hand moved back and forth over his shaft, and sheer frustration drove him to turn to his side and try again. Spike was right... this wasn’t working for him anymore. Still, he kept trying... needing release so bad it hurt.


“Guh...” he opened his eyes to see Spike had lifted his sheet. In a single heartbeat, he was on the makeshift bed, on top of Spike, fucking him so hard the springs of the bed were squeaking under the strain. “I hate you... hate you for making me want this.”


Spike’s arms closed around Xander’s waist and ass. He literally pushed and pulled the boy to get more friction. “I love the way you hate me. Don’t stop hating me, yeah.”


“Fuck you, Spike.”


“Oh yeah,” he started to turn over but Xander had him trapped and was still fucking the hell out of him. “’sall good, I’m easy,” he amended, lifting his hips up to meet Xander thrust for thrust. The artist was moving over him so hard, his breath so labored, his brown eyes as intense as they’d been while he was creating him in the late night hours. “Hate me harder,” he said, spurring him on.


“Fuck, fuck... son of a...” Xander was out of his head with need, a need so strong it swamped everything else, all of his resolve, all of his good intentions. All he knew was that this man... this vampire made him burn like no one else had, and he needed a way to put out the fire. “Spi... Spike...”


“Yeah, oh yeah,” Spike jerked up against Xander with as much violence and desperation as the artist. “Good... so good.”


“Oh God... oh my fucking God,” Xander gripped his lover’s hips and pounded into him a few more times, shouting his release and still moving against him. He was riding the peaks and valleys of his orgasm, when he found his mouth plastered against Spike’s and it wasn’t his own doing. He tried to pull away. “NO!”


“Right, got you. That’s a NO!,” Rolling them over, Spike took control of the kiss, using his tongue, and his body as weapons to show Xander it was alright, that this was right... that it was beautiful, and that it was exactly what the spell was intended for.


Protest... where was a good protest when you needed one? His mind was so foggy, and God... if felt good, so so good, to get the daylights kissed out of you by a perfectly shaped mouth, even if you had to avoid some razor sharp teeth. Even if you had to choose between breathing and dying a slow, delicious death, as tongue slid against tongue.


(A/N: Please comment :) )