Quantum Xander II: In Wake of the Curse
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
65
Views:
20,521
Reviews:
119
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
65
Views:
20,521
Reviews:
119
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
~PART 8~
Part 8
The next week was crazy. Xander had felt more like himself since Spike’s accident in the kitchen, but the vampire was acting more than a little bit weird. Xander would catch him smelling him sometimes, and he stared at him a lot. Especially at his neck. It was giving him a wiggins. Not that he thought Spike would bite him; it was just that soul or no, he was a vampire, and Xander understood that a whole lot better than he used to. The worst part was, Xander remembered how a bite felt when it was done right, how it made him hard and left him wanting; he wasn’t sure if he’d even defend himself if Spike attacked. Again, not that he thought he would.
After the incident at the site, Xander had tried to keep a tight rein on his anger. He certainly didn’t want to end up losing control or doing anything like that again. So, he put aside his anger and mistrust of Willow and tried to fit back into the goofy-Xander place he had vacated when the curse came into effect. It seemed to be working; no one noticed that his efforts were half-hearted at best. No one, that is, except Spike.
They had spent the evening tracking down some high school punk who was using a magic-ed jacket to get all the girls to fall for him. It worked well, as not only was Dawn swooning over the creep, but Xander had walked into a Mary Kay Letourneau situation with him and the Buffster in one of the empty classrooms.
He had taken Spike with him to get the coat, seeing as how RJ had shown up at the Summers’ house and mojo-ed both Willow and Anya as well. Good thing they had stopped by; Willow was all set to turn him into a girl. God only knows what An had been up to. Something involving grand larceny, he was sure.
So with the coat in his hands, Xander led Spike back to Buffy’s place where they burned it. Just your average evening’s entertainment here on the hellmouth. He wondered why it was they didn’t have more tourism. “Come for the sun. Stay for the possession!” They could make a fortune selling novelty shirts that read “My parents vacationed on the Hellmouth and all I got was this stupid t-shirt, an extra eye in the back of my head, and the memories of an ex-Green Beret.” It was catchy if not original.
Now they were home, two men vegging in front of the TV, drinking beer and watching soccer - Xander refused to call it football no matter how many times Spike corrected him. It was… comfortable, easy, relaxing, and God he just wanted to scream with the frustration of it all.
Spike was miserable. Buffy had been making eyes at her boss, not to mention riding one of the students. Xander was miserable, as well. He felt uncomfortable around his friends because they all wanted to know what had happened and he wouldn’t tell them. He was trying to learn how to control his magical powers but he wasn’t having a lot of success - blowing up the john had been the only thing that had gone right, and he was horny as hell. He had gotten used to keeping up with his mate’s sexual appetites and he felt the absence of sex very acutely.
Spike was sniffing him again. It was very discreet, and if Xander hadn’t been waiting for it, he wouldn’t have noticed. As it was, he was highly irritable so he snapped at the vampire.
“What? What is it about me that you keep sniffing me?”
“I wasn’t!”
“You were! You were so sniffing me, pal.”
“Like I’d sniff you.”
“Oh you would! You… Hey! No fair cheating. We were having an argument, buddy. You can’t blindside me with humor.”
“Alright, you smell nummy. Happy?”
“You. Are a funny vampire. Funny, funny vampire. Maybe we should put you on stage; you could be the undead Jerry Seinfeld.”
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. Xander squinted his in suspicion.
“Hey! You were doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
“Distracting me. Now out with it. Do I smell bad or something?”
“No. You smell… actually you smell fuckin’ amazing. For some reason, you’ve always smelled good, like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. But lately? It’s… overwhelming. I’m surprised every demon on the hellmouth hasn’t been gunning for you. You are the demon equivalent of prime rib, Xander - with all the trimmings.”
“Oh. So when you said I smelled nummy, you were telling the truth?”
“Yeah. Now shut up and watch the match.”
An hour later and the game was finished. Xander didn’t remember much about it after talking to Spike. He spent the rest of the time trying to figure out how to mask his scent to the demon population of Sunnydale. The last thing he wanted was to go around smelling like a steakhouse while out on patrol. He switched off the television absently and closed his eyes. He was getting a hell of a headache. He tried a few of the meditative breathing techniques he had read about while trying to learn how to focus his control, hoping they would ease the pain a bit.
He was in a light doze when he felt cool finger at his temples, gently circling, applying just the slightest bit of pressure. Spike had amazing hands, Xander had almost enjoyed having headaches in the past because Spike would always scoot in behind him - just like he was now and ease the tension for him.
“Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you have the best hands.”
Spike shook his head fondly; he could feel the tension radiating out of the man and knew this would help. He had waited until Xander was in a light doze before moving into position behind him. He admitted he had an ulterior motive; he was trying to see if Xander had a scar, since he couldn’t smell a claim on him. He smelled like magic though, so there was a good chance he was masking it.
“Hmmm, love your hands. Don’t stop, feels good.”
Xander was in his happy place. Reclined against Spike’s cool chest, gentle fingers rubbing small circles on his temples, he only wished for the purr; that would make everything perfect. He would fall asleep if only Spike would purr for him.
Spike gently moved Xander’s head to the side and gazed into the open collar of his shirt. There it was, plain as day if you knew what you were looking for. A scar; a claim. His claim. It was identical to his mark - every vampire worth his salt knew the look of his own bite, as well as the bite of his family, and their enemies, for that matter. It kept you from mistaking another master’s pet for a random meal. The demon within him reacted at once to the visual stimulation. Having felt alone and unwanted for so long, it grabbed onto this lifeline and held it tight. Spike felt the demon’s satisfaction as it rumbled happily. It wasn’t alone; it had a companion - a mate - even if it wasn’t technically his. He was the only “Spike” in this reality.
“Mmm, purry. Nice vampire. Pretty vampire.”
Xander mumbled happily and then fell asleep to the feel and sound of Spike purring - content for the first time since getting his soul - behind him. Eventually, all good things had to come to an end and Spike lifted Xander into his arms and carried him to his bed. He deftly stripped him out of his shirt and jeans and with a soft kiss to his forehead tucked him in and whispered goodnight. Xander smiled in his sleep and whispered back.
“Night, Spike. Love you.”
Spike smiled sadly and left the room. He wanted to believe that the words were meant for him, even though he knew better. It wasn’t as though he was in love with Xander; his heart still belonged to Buffy. But he was lonely, and having someone who loved him, even in friendship, would be nice right about now.
The next week was crazy. Xander had felt more like himself since Spike’s accident in the kitchen, but the vampire was acting more than a little bit weird. Xander would catch him smelling him sometimes, and he stared at him a lot. Especially at his neck. It was giving him a wiggins. Not that he thought Spike would bite him; it was just that soul or no, he was a vampire, and Xander understood that a whole lot better than he used to. The worst part was, Xander remembered how a bite felt when it was done right, how it made him hard and left him wanting; he wasn’t sure if he’d even defend himself if Spike attacked. Again, not that he thought he would.
After the incident at the site, Xander had tried to keep a tight rein on his anger. He certainly didn’t want to end up losing control or doing anything like that again. So, he put aside his anger and mistrust of Willow and tried to fit back into the goofy-Xander place he had vacated when the curse came into effect. It seemed to be working; no one noticed that his efforts were half-hearted at best. No one, that is, except Spike.
They had spent the evening tracking down some high school punk who was using a magic-ed jacket to get all the girls to fall for him. It worked well, as not only was Dawn swooning over the creep, but Xander had walked into a Mary Kay Letourneau situation with him and the Buffster in one of the empty classrooms.
He had taken Spike with him to get the coat, seeing as how RJ had shown up at the Summers’ house and mojo-ed both Willow and Anya as well. Good thing they had stopped by; Willow was all set to turn him into a girl. God only knows what An had been up to. Something involving grand larceny, he was sure.
So with the coat in his hands, Xander led Spike back to Buffy’s place where they burned it. Just your average evening’s entertainment here on the hellmouth. He wondered why it was they didn’t have more tourism. “Come for the sun. Stay for the possession!” They could make a fortune selling novelty shirts that read “My parents vacationed on the Hellmouth and all I got was this stupid t-shirt, an extra eye in the back of my head, and the memories of an ex-Green Beret.” It was catchy if not original.
Now they were home, two men vegging in front of the TV, drinking beer and watching soccer - Xander refused to call it football no matter how many times Spike corrected him. It was… comfortable, easy, relaxing, and God he just wanted to scream with the frustration of it all.
Spike was miserable. Buffy had been making eyes at her boss, not to mention riding one of the students. Xander was miserable, as well. He felt uncomfortable around his friends because they all wanted to know what had happened and he wouldn’t tell them. He was trying to learn how to control his magical powers but he wasn’t having a lot of success - blowing up the john had been the only thing that had gone right, and he was horny as hell. He had gotten used to keeping up with his mate’s sexual appetites and he felt the absence of sex very acutely.
Spike was sniffing him again. It was very discreet, and if Xander hadn’t been waiting for it, he wouldn’t have noticed. As it was, he was highly irritable so he snapped at the vampire.
“What? What is it about me that you keep sniffing me?”
“I wasn’t!”
“You were! You were so sniffing me, pal.”
“Like I’d sniff you.”
“Oh you would! You… Hey! No fair cheating. We were having an argument, buddy. You can’t blindside me with humor.”
“Alright, you smell nummy. Happy?”
“You. Are a funny vampire. Funny, funny vampire. Maybe we should put you on stage; you could be the undead Jerry Seinfeld.”
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. Xander squinted his in suspicion.
“Hey! You were doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
“Distracting me. Now out with it. Do I smell bad or something?”
“No. You smell… actually you smell fuckin’ amazing. For some reason, you’ve always smelled good, like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. But lately? It’s… overwhelming. I’m surprised every demon on the hellmouth hasn’t been gunning for you. You are the demon equivalent of prime rib, Xander - with all the trimmings.”
“Oh. So when you said I smelled nummy, you were telling the truth?”
“Yeah. Now shut up and watch the match.”
An hour later and the game was finished. Xander didn’t remember much about it after talking to Spike. He spent the rest of the time trying to figure out how to mask his scent to the demon population of Sunnydale. The last thing he wanted was to go around smelling like a steakhouse while out on patrol. He switched off the television absently and closed his eyes. He was getting a hell of a headache. He tried a few of the meditative breathing techniques he had read about while trying to learn how to focus his control, hoping they would ease the pain a bit.
He was in a light doze when he felt cool finger at his temples, gently circling, applying just the slightest bit of pressure. Spike had amazing hands, Xander had almost enjoyed having headaches in the past because Spike would always scoot in behind him - just like he was now and ease the tension for him.
“Yeah, just like that. Fuck, you have the best hands.”
Spike shook his head fondly; he could feel the tension radiating out of the man and knew this would help. He had waited until Xander was in a light doze before moving into position behind him. He admitted he had an ulterior motive; he was trying to see if Xander had a scar, since he couldn’t smell a claim on him. He smelled like magic though, so there was a good chance he was masking it.
“Hmmm, love your hands. Don’t stop, feels good.”
Xander was in his happy place. Reclined against Spike’s cool chest, gentle fingers rubbing small circles on his temples, he only wished for the purr; that would make everything perfect. He would fall asleep if only Spike would purr for him.
Spike gently moved Xander’s head to the side and gazed into the open collar of his shirt. There it was, plain as day if you knew what you were looking for. A scar; a claim. His claim. It was identical to his mark - every vampire worth his salt knew the look of his own bite, as well as the bite of his family, and their enemies, for that matter. It kept you from mistaking another master’s pet for a random meal. The demon within him reacted at once to the visual stimulation. Having felt alone and unwanted for so long, it grabbed onto this lifeline and held it tight. Spike felt the demon’s satisfaction as it rumbled happily. It wasn’t alone; it had a companion - a mate - even if it wasn’t technically his. He was the only “Spike” in this reality.
“Mmm, purry. Nice vampire. Pretty vampire.”
Xander mumbled happily and then fell asleep to the feel and sound of Spike purring - content for the first time since getting his soul - behind him. Eventually, all good things had to come to an end and Spike lifted Xander into his arms and carried him to his bed. He deftly stripped him out of his shirt and jeans and with a soft kiss to his forehead tucked him in and whispered goodnight. Xander smiled in his sleep and whispered back.
“Night, Spike. Love you.”
Spike smiled sadly and left the room. He wanted to believe that the words were meant for him, even though he knew better. It wasn’t as though he was in love with Xander; his heart still belonged to Buffy. But he was lonely, and having someone who loved him, even in friendship, would be nice right about now.