Old Enemies... (S/X)

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Part 7

Elliot had no idea of what had just happened.

One minute, Will had been... almost flirting with him, and the next... a blond blur raced away from him with a whispered something, leaving him to look with shock at his friend.

"Damn it, Harris, what did you say?" he demanded, ignoring the fact that he was the one on his knees. "Will finally showed up and you said something to scare him off!" Elliot frowned and got up from the floor, then collapsed into the chair his friend had been using before he'd gone to the restroom and the bar. "Jesus! I TOLD you you needed to relax! NOW do you believe me?"

One brown eye stared at the hallway the men's room was down and frowned. "That was... this Will you wanted me to... but..." Harris sighed. "You're the one who wanted me to top, El. I was just doing what any dom would do if he caught someone touching his... you... without permission. I told him not to and to apologize."

Elliot frowned. "That's all? You swear it, Harris? And he freaked like that?" The confusion was very real. Will had seemed to know all about being dominant but to be scared off by such a simple comment was... "Okay, that's just weird."

Harris laughed bitterly. "Ya think?"

He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was because even from the back, the blond man had reminded him of someone. The way he stood, his head cocked a bit... hell, even the languid way his hand had caressed Elliot's hair. It all seemed somehow... familiar. Yet he knew he didn't know this Will. Hell, he hadn't even been to New York for three years before this trip and he hadn't met anyone named Will then.

There was still something bothering him, though. Something about the man who'd run. Nothing he could put his finger on... it was something intangible. A feeling, maybe.

Whatever it was, though, he knew he had to find the man and apologize for scaring him if that's what he'd done. Hell, for all he knew he'd insulted him, although he doubted it. Judging from the way he'd been dressed, the man was definitely not a sub of any kind, so if he'd been insulted, a quick run away would NOT have been the response. And he'd held himself like...

He sighed softly. "Okay, El. I'm gonna fix this." He looked around and glared at the other men nearby before pointing a finger at his friend and saying loudly "STAY!"

Elliot grinned to himself as Harris walked away. 'Stay'? As if he was going anywhere without his friend... or maybe Will, he reminded himself, feeling his cock straining against the cotton slacks he wore.

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It didn't take rocket science to figure out which stall the mysterious Will was in. There was only one that was occupied, after all.
Apparently there was some sort of vibe he was putting off, Harris figured. That was the only reason he could think of for the other men in the restroom to clear out as soon as he walked in. Still, it let him listen to what was happening in that locked stall, which was... nothing. Hell, he couldn't even hear breathing.

The brunette sighed and raised a hand, knocking on the door.

"Look, uh... Will, right? I didn't mean to... put you off or anything." He figured the word 'scare' might bother the other man, so he didn't use it. "El... well, he likes to play at being a bottom sometimes and I was just... trying to fulfill his little fantasy, okay?"
Harris chuckled and leaned against the door. "Shit, he takes that collar and leash everywhere we go, just on the off chance that I might ask him to wear them." He grinned to himself. "Not that we're together anymore, you understand, because that pretty much ended a while ago, and not because there's anything wrong with him because there isn't. It's me, you know? He's a good guy and a good friend but we just don't work the way we should if we were gonna be TOGETHER, if you know what I mean, and... why am I telling you this? Not like you want to know, right?"

Harris blushed at the continued silence from inside the stall.

"Look, it's just... I don't know whether I freaked you out or what, but I didn't mean to, okay? Then again, I have a long history of doing things I didn't mean to do, so... and Gods, do NOT get me started on that because I'd probably never stop and then you'd just want to kill me, right?"

He blushed more, not sure of why he was running off at the mouth but unable to stop.

"And if you're worried about the whole 'Spark' thing, don't. If Elliot thinks you're the man for the job, then I'm sure you are and I give my whole-hearted approval, okay? And now I'm just gonna go away and gag myself so I'll stop blithering because that's what I'm doing although I'm deliberately leaving off the part where I'm an idiot because... well, best selling author, right? Can't really call myself an idiot although I'm beginning to think I'm overqualified for the position of VILLAGE idiot..."

What the fuck was wrong with him? He hadn't lost control of his mouth since before he'd lost his eye! Yet here he was, sounding like the Xander of more than seven years ago.

Worse still, his captive audience didn't seem to even notice that he was talking.

Harris swallowed hard and forced his mouth to slow down to the speed of his brain.

"I... anyway," he said softly, hoping he hadn't just convinced the other man that he was a screaming loon, "I'd really love to sit down and talk about what El's got in mind. Maybe tomorrow if you have the time. I’m guessing you’ve had enough of me for one night, anyway." He let the self-depricating grin colour his voice as he stepped away from the stall door. "We're at the Plaza, so... just give us a call if you want to meet for breakfast or something. I... I really AM sorry about tonight."

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He'd heard the voice of the boy. Heard it talking. The cadence, the flow... it was all so Xander. So HIM.

But it couldn't be. He knew that. Still, he allowed himself to get lost in the sensation that it might be.

It wasn't until the tone of obvious parting that he shook himself and straightened.

"Wait," he said softly, not sure the other man would even hear him.

He cleared his throat and said it again. "Wait."

Harris froze, one hand on the handle of the door. He knew that voice. He did. But he'd seen its owner die in a flash of fire and agony.

"I..." he said, his mind racing. Dead, dead, dead... Hellmouth... anything could happen on a... Hellmouth...

"But you're dead," he whispered, not turning around even when he heard the creak of metal as the stall door swung open. "I watched you... I saw you die, Spike... it can't be you... it just... CAN'T!"

The human called him Spike. That was the first thing that told him that maybe-- against all logic and reason-- maybe he wasn't actually going insane. Maybe it really WAS the boy it sounded like.

His entire body shook wildly, trying to reorder the world into a place where Xander could be alive and talking to him without wanting him dead. Then again, he'd said he'd thought he WAS dead. Maybe he was simply disappointed that it wasn't so.

That must be it, he realized. Here he was, still wanting the lad... young man, he corrected, looking at the tense, long lines of Xander's back... and the bloke wished him dead.

It figured, though. He'd never cared for anyone who'd returned the emotion.

"Right, then," he said, trying to keep the sorrow from his voice, "I'm dead and not here. We can go with that, Harris. Just run off with your toy and pretend you never saw me, alright? Because I'll for damned sure be pretending the same."

Spike swallowed hard, forcing the tears to wait until he left this God-awful place and got home where he could mourn in peace. "Oh, and I think that breakfast meeting is out of the question. Ask your friend Elliot. Avoiding the sun keeps me looking young."

It was the smug and snarky tone that had him spinning away from the door to stare at the blond. He looked different, Harris realized. More... worn. Or did he mean worn out?

Whatever it was, it didn't suit his former enemy and one-time almost friend. He let his eye roam Spike's body, up and down, up and down, without realizing that it was an appraising stare. He also didn't realize that he bore the full brunt of sadness in his eye when he met Spike's.

It was the matching sorrow he saw that had him stepping closer, however.

His hands rose to rest lightly on Spike's shoulders, not wanting to push the other man. He'd read all the Watchers' diaries about Spike, after all. He knew the vampire wasn't gay, as such, and also knew how much he'd suffered at the hands of Angelus, and later at the hands of the souled version of the same vampire. But he remembered what Elliot had told him about 'Will' and what he'd been up to at the bar the previous evening, so...

"Spike," he said softly, letting the amazed wonder creep into his voice, "You're alive! Or as alive as you've been since I met you, which is more than good enough!" His fingers tightened on the blond's shoulders, flexing over muscle-sheathed bone. "And someday you're gonna have to tell me HOW, but... not right now."

Having said that much, Harrison Alexander-- Xander Harris that was-- took fate and the universe by the balls and did something he'd only ever dreamed about doing.

He leaned in and down a bit, pressing his soft, warm, full lips to the equally soft and full cooler ones of the vampire. His fingers tightened on the strong though slender shoulders in an effort to keep Spike where he was for at least long enough to finish the kiss and a groan sprung from his lips into the wet cavern of Spike's mouth as the blond suddenly pulled him closer and did his damnedest to crawl inside him from the mouth down, it felt like.