The Art of Breaking

The Art of Breaking

He’d blinked.

One moment, he had been gazing into smirking blue eyes. The next, he was watching curiously as Buffy threw him to the ground and began whaling on a smallish, amazingly agile pink-skinned demon. He glanced down and noticed… he was dirty. Somewhat puzzled, he began flicking the large gray flakes off his shoulders and chest. It was the strangest dirt he’d ever seen, yet somehow, it seemed familiar. Maybe it was some sort of demony excretion. *Gah!*

It wasn’t until he looked up into wide, teary green eyes that he realized just what the gray substance was: It was his lover.

Hands that, only moments before, had combed through platinum hair, mussing the gelled locks into a thoroughly loved mess, began frantically grasping at the insubstantial dust that covered his body and the surrounding ground. Thiftyifty material wouldn’t stay in his hands – it just kept slipping through his fingers.


~Flashback~
“Spike, hold still!” The whipped cream sticking his fingers together made grabbing the laughing vampire all but impossible.

“You want Spike ala mode, gotta catch me, Xan.” The glowing blond tossed over his shoulder as he hurdled the couch, never once loosing the grin that stretched his features. God, he was beautiful when he laughed.

“Come on, baby, I held still while you ate enough sundae material for five banana splits off my chest! It’s my turn, and I want a chocolate-covered Spike!” The vampire doubled over in laughter, giving Xander just enough time to tackle the sticky Spike.

“Mine.” The word emerged from his throat of its own volition, answered with a golden flicker. “Now, hold still.” For once, Spike obeyed, not moving a muscle as Xander upended the still quite warm bottle of fudge over the pale chest, allowing the sauce to coat peaked nipples, pool in a squirming navel, and drizzle over a twitching cock. Satisfied with his handiwork, he set the bottle aside. “Perfect.”

He positioned himself over his lover, blue eyes never wavering from his face. Leaning down, he tentatively ran a soft, wet tongue across a fudge-laced collarbone. The body below him shuddered, and he felt a smirk settle onto his face. He wasted no time in devouring the sweet substance off translucent skin, skillfully avoiding swollen nipples and altogether neglecting the straining erection.

Surveying the remaining uncharted territory, his gaze became fixed on glazed eyes and lips parted in anticipation. He dove in, capturing that smart, sexy mouth with hin inn in a fudge-flavored kiss. Exploring the moist cavern, he moaned as Spike’s tongue met his and slickly slid against his own. Panting heavily through his nose, he devoured his lover’s mouth. Spike uncharacteristically submitted to the claiming, whimpering at each powerful thrust. Xander searched past the traces of chocolate until he found theculiculine flavor that was always present in the blond’s mouth; Spike was much better than chocolate.

Releasing the gasping mouth, he fell to his forearms, taking one rosy, chocolatey nipple into his warm mouth. He quickly divested the area of the sauce, flicking the pebbled nub with his tongue before biting tenderly with blunt teeth. He pulled away from Spike’s chest, strengthening his bite and stretching the nipple still bet between his teeth. The vampire began breathing – wheezing, needy gasps breaking the silence in the apartment. Flicking his tongue once, twice, Xander released the reddened bud – not soothing it with moist licks, but letting it tingle, shooting shocks of pain along the blonde’s chest. He moved to the second nipple, but instead of roughly assaulting it as he’d done its partner, he treated it with an equal measure of gentleness – swirling lightly around the pebble in his mouth, before stroking it in long, smooth swipes with the flat of his tongue. The contrast in sensation encouraged the vampire’s gasps to melt into plaintive whimpers that turned into a blossoming warmth in Xander’s abdomen.

He placed a soft, chaste kiss in the center of his love’s chest, then one on a sweat-slicked forehead. Brown eyes locked with love-glazed blue, and he left a sweet, lingering kiss on glistening,ty lty lips, before moving down the trembling body towards the only remaining traces of fudge.

He placed one last soft kiss on the tip of his lover’s cock, before proceeding to clean the appendage with long, kitteny swipes of his tongue. Taking the head into his mouth, he began a gentle suction, teasing the weeping slit and savoring the precum he discovered. Much better than chocolate. When whimpers turned into throaty, husky moans, he lowered his head, taking in more of the delicious member, massaging the thick vein with lips and tongue. He bobbed his head a few times, then let go with a pop, much to the dismay of the squirming vampire. He stifled a smile and captured his next target: the chocolate-covered sac hanging below. Rolling each of the sensitive spheres in his mouth, he carefully cleaned them of the remaining vestiges of chocolate, before returning to the now dripping cock.

Taking only a moment to survey the sight of his lover, writhing and moaning his name on the kitchen floor, he leaned down and took Spike’s dick to the back of his throat. Said vampire arched off the floor, howling Xander’s name and succumbing to the powerful suction of Xander’s mouth – coming forcibly after only three pulls. He swallowed every drop, taking his love into himself and climaxing at the intimate thought. He collapsed onto the blond, who reflexively wrapped shaking limbs around his torso.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Harsh pants and gasps slowed until the only sounft wft was the steady thump of his heart. His pillow sighed, then stirred.

“Best clean up before we stick together.” The blonde rolled them over, drawing away from his grasping limbs.

“Wait…” He reached for his departing lover, but the vampire, still slick with saliva, semen and sauce, slipped through his fingers.
~End Flash~


Taking what little ash he managed to grasp with trembling hands, he began to shakily paint his face and arms, wanting his lover to sink in and occupy the spaces beneath his skin. He licked his hands, not completely surprised when the ashy taste turned to acid in his mouth, eating away at the sickly wilting hope on his pallet. He continued to clean the dust from his arms with his tongue, searching for the barest trace of Spike’s addictive taste, finding naught but the acrid flavor of death.

A strong hand caught his. For a moment, he thought… but it was too small, too warm. They weren’t *his* hands; smooth and cool and too delicate to belong to a man. His hands were in a million pieces, autumn leaved scattered by the wind.


~Flashback~
He awoke, warm and comfortable, spooned around his platinum-haired lover. His nose was buried in the soft curls he’d immediately freed upon returning from work the previous evening, He inhaled deeply, enjoying the vampire’s scent: leather, tobacco, and the barest hint of the little boy he’d left behind a century and a half ago. His soft parts were nestled into the smooth crease in Spike’s backside, safe and relaxed - home - where they belonged. One arm was wrapped around Spike’s chest, the other draped over a narrow waist, both hands linked intimately with the blond’s.

To Xander, holding hands was one of the most intimate acts two people could engage in. Of course, he died a little each time Spike entered him, filling him and completing him like he’d never thought possible. But when his lover would take his hand, in the middle of a Sy mey meeting, or when walking on patrol, Xander’s heart would contract, stealing the air from his lungs and leaving him with the dizzy, giddy feeling that he was no longer in his body, but in some far-off place where donut-boy sidekicks had their every wish fulfilled.

On the verge of tears, he smiled and gave his love a gentle squeeze. The vampire stirred, sinking back into Xa’s e’s embrace, eatheathy murmur escaping pale pink lips.

“Xan…” He squeezed a little tighter.

“Hmm?” Spike rolled over, slipping one languid thigh between Xander’s and pressing sleepy eyes to the hollow in Xander’s throat.

“Mmmm….love you.” The tears fell. He held his lover close until the platinum head lolled in slumber, then followed his vampire into sleep.
~End Flash~


He awoke alone, clean, in bed, in only boxers. He didn’t remember going to bed the night before – Spike must have bathed him and put him to bed. The warm smile he wore slipped off his face. It wasn’t Spike. Wouldn’t ever be Spike. Who, then? He remembered Buffy – thin but strong arms lifting him to his feet, small manicured hands dusting off his jacket, golden curls the wrong color leaning against his chest. Of course it was Buffy. There was no one else.

He was glad to have the slayer’s help – he’d obviously needed it – but hated the fact that she had bathed him. Strangely, it wasn’t the fact that his one-time crush had seen him naked that troubled him, it was that she had unknowingly intruded on something almost sacred to him. Something that had melted the last of his reserves, opening his heart to the love Spike had offered.


~Flashback~
Xander was used to being overlooked. After years of neglect – if not abuse – from his parents, he’d learned to shrink into the shadows. His relationship with Cordelia hadn’t been than much more loving, th heh her penchaor hor hiding in closets to make out and being ashamed of him was par for the course. Anya… well, Anya had appeared to love him, but he wasn’t sure if it was love or just convenience. Either way, it was a confusing relationship; with Anya he’d felt like a puppet - she’d rearranged his life (and limbs) to suit her own needs. His sweet Willow would have loved him, ily hly he’d have been aware enough to see the girl’s embarrassingly obvious adoration. All in all, Xander’s love life was a big zero.

So the first time it happened – clothes being gently removed, brush of fingertips over bare skin – Xander was struck dumb, a pulsing, glimmering thing lodged in his gut.

When Spike had finished removing his clothes - cool hands ghosting over flusflushed skin, memorizing dips and planes and ridges – Xander was scooped up into preternaturally strong arms, cradled (lovingly?) against a pale chest, cool lips pressed against his hair, and carried into the bathroom. The tub was full of steamy, foamy water, candles dotted the room, and a pleasant scent hung in the air. He raised his head, locking eyes with his lover, who – not breaking eye contact – stepped into the tub and lowered them both, gently, into the steaming water. The pulsing thing in his gut began to tremble.

The vampire maneuvered him so that he sat between outstretched legs, and wrapped long, deceptively lithe arms around his torso. Smooth hands began to skate along his arms, caressing and knng tng the tense muscles. The trembling increased, filling his abdomen. The hands then moved to massage his broad shoulders, fingers slowly moving towards his face – one sliding through soggy locks to cup the back of his head, the other reaching around to slide along his jaw – tilting his head towards the blond. Blue eyes searched his face, caresshis his features and fixating on his suddenly dry lips. The trembling spread throughout his torso.

His tongue slipped out to moisten his lips, which were instantly caught in a gentle kiss. Moist, glistening lips slid against his own, nipping and sucking them into a cool mouth. His tongue tentatively slipped into the soft cavern, extracting a sweet whimper from the vampire. The trembling cond hid his limbs and crept up his spine, increasing in intensity until his whole body was shuddering and convulsing. He sobbed into the kiss, and was flipped around, face to face with the vampire. The need, hunger, and (love?) emanating from blue eyes hit him; a good, hard slap in the face. The dam built by years and years of carefully guarding his heart broke, and tears flooded his eyes. He was instantly hauled against a smooth chest, face pressed into a long, corded neck, strong, secure arms wrapped around his back. Xander clung to Spike, weeping.

For the first time in his life, he felt loved.
~End Flash~


A bitter smile sat on his face, stretching his features into a parody of the happiness he’d had within his grasp, only to slip away. They were in love, dammit, and were supposed to have forever.

They’d talked about it: forever. Spike had explained the benefits and the consequences of becg mag mates, the most appealing of which was that Xander would be able to stay with the beautiful creature for eternity. He’d immediately accepted, only to be denied by the vampire, who’d wanted to make sure Xander “had enough time to sort it all out.”


~Flashback~
Collapsed into a post-orgasmic puddle – he on his back and Spike draped across his chest - Xander’s heavy panting slowly wound down. A blond head turned towards him, as a hand began to play in the slippery emissions on his chest.

“I want you, Xan, and I’ll have you.” Two slick fingers found his entrance, still filled with Spike’s cum. The blond began a slow, finger fuck, placing small, chaste kisses over the broad c und under his lean one.

“Gonna make you mine, luv.” The blond roused from his position, pushing Xander’s legs towards his chest and prompting him to hold them, fingers slipping deeper into his ass.

“Have you forever; always with me.” A third finger joined the others. He grunted, wiggling his ass for more. A pale hand interrupted with a smack.

“Hold still, boy.” He froze. Spike was serious.

“You belong to me. Mine. My Xander. My love.” Spike began chanting endearments, and three fingers turned to four. He arched with pleasure, causing the vampire to lift a scarred eyebrow in warning. Mishchievious!Xander came out to play and he wiggled his ass again. He was answered with another slap – on echeecheek. He bucked up uncontrollably, causing Spike’s thumb to slip into his stretched opening. A leer blossomed across Spike’s face.

“My boy likes to be spanked, huh?” A gasp was pulled from his chest when the wriggling fingers slid in even further, up to the wrist. Spike’s whole hand was in him – so deep in him – and he was stretched more than he’d ever been. The hand became a fist, surging into his bowels, knuckles scraping along his prostate, initiating full-body shudders.

“Oh, you like this don’t you? Taking my fist up your sweet ass. Gonna fuck you with my whole arm, Xander,” Blue eyes darkened to near-black locked with his own. “Gonna stretch you around me so good. Gonna make you need me, make you mine. Then I’m gonna fuck you like this every day.” The arm slid in further and his chest constricted, his breath turning to wheezing, gasping pants.

“Every day I’ll make you scream, make you beg. You’re gonna want it, Xan. Gonna want it so bad, need me so bad…” By ttimetime, Spike was pounding his entire forearm into his ass. Nails bit into his thighs, where he held them apart, and he pulled, opening himself wider for his love.

“That’s it, boy, open yourself up for me, luv.” Arm stilling, Spike leaned forward to capture his lips, tongue sweeping in to mark his territory. The vampire pulled away from his gasping mouth and nuzzled his ear, whispering, “I love you, Xander.”

A sob broke from his chest as the thrusting resumed, knuckles slamming into his sweet spot with every stroke. He exploded with pleasure, cum arcing into the air and landing on his abdomen. He groaned as Spike withdrew the fist with a pop, legs slumping to the mattress. He watched with fascination as the vampire wrapped the slick fist around his own member, pumping once, twice, then cumming, his semen mixing with Xander’s.

The vampire slumped forward onto his chest, in a position strikingly similar to the one they’d started out in. He raised shaking arms, grasping the blond and hauling his lover up his chest until they were face to face. Exhausted, they simply lay like that, face pressed to face, until he broke the silence.

“Love you too, Spike. Can’t wait to be yours.” He felt the vampire shudder.

“Already mine, Xan, just waiting to make it official.” Spike began nuzzling him, dragging lips and nose over his cheeks, his eyes, his hair, finally coming to rest on his lips.

“When?” Faces slick with sweat and tears and saliva, they slid against one another with sloppy, wet kisses. In between soft nips and licks, Spike spoke. “How about … on our … anniversary?”

Their anniversary. One whole year with the vampire who held his heart. It was in two weeks. He could wait two weeks.
~End Flash~


Two days. Their anniversary was in two days. Two *fucking* days and he would have been with his vampire forever. His lover would have been his mate. His life. His *everything*. Two days. Two *fucking* days.

He staggered to his feet, needing to be away from the place they’d spent so many hours making love, although the living room wasn’t much better. Seeiovemovement, he turned, a sleepy-eyed Buffy righting herself on the sofa, yawning.

“How are you doing?”

The simple question was too much. His face broke, along with the rest of him. He slid to the floor, sobs wracking his large frame, and immediately found himself in the arms of the blonde slayer whose scars matched his own. Rocking back and forth, the two wept for the hurt that never stopped, but simply consumed until all was gone.


~Flashback~
Willow was dead. His Willow was dead.

“Spike, how can she be… I mean, why… Spike?” Strong limbs wrapped around his chest, a cforeforehead pressed to his shoulder.

“Shhh, luv, let me take care of you.” The vampire did as promised, scooping Xander up and depositing him in the bedroom, carefully undressing him and arranging him on the bed. They made love, slow and sweet, Spike spooned behind him, pressing insistent kisses to the nape of his neck. Neither came that night, slowly rocking together until sleep claimed them, still intimately joined.
~End Flash~


Xander raised his head from Buffy’s shoulder. Gone. They were all gone. She was all that was left. And she wasn’t enough. Not after Spike…

Spike had told him that after being mated, one would die without the other. Spike was wrong. They hadn’t mated, and Xander was dead anyway. He’d been emptied, and walking around in this shell without his love was worse than death. He rose and stumbled into the kitchen, leaning heavily on the cabinet. Opening a drawer, he withdrew a long carving knife.

“Xander?” The feminine voice interrupted his musings. He turned, gripping the knife tightly.

“Xander? What…” Her face opened grotesquely, eyes widening, jaw gaping.

“Buffy, please don’t. Don’t take this from me. You, of all people, should understand this.” Desperation gripped him; sharp wraithlike talons sinking into the nape of his neck.

“Xander?” For a moment, he was taken back to high school, when he had loved a girl with bright emerald eyes and shining golden hair. And for a moment, one smallent,ent, he felt the urge to drop the knife and take the tearful girl he’d once loved into his arms, but his vision swam and green eyes turned to blue, and the desperation was back, clawing at his gut, ripping apart and gorging itself on the love he’d so freely given and taken.

“Buffy, I need this. I can’t stay.” His throat tightened painfully. “You know that.” She clasped a small hand to her mouth, tears spilling forth like prayers, and nodded.

Brown eyes, sorrowful with death, thanked her. Turning his arm over, he examined the flesh there. It looked alive; the blood still pumping, cells still dividing – internal organs having missed the notice that he was dead. Well, he was going to take care of that. Placing the tip of the blade at the apex of his forearm, he spared one last glance to Buffy – a small smile struggling onto his face – and cut.

He watched, fascinated, as the blood gushed from the arm-length wound. Red and vibrant, it dripped from his elbow onto the cracking linoleum; Spike would have been upset at the waste. He passed the knife from one hand to the other and repeated the process on his right arm without hesitation. The knife clattered to the ground. He sank back against the cabinet, slinking to sit in the pool of blood. Arms propped on his knees, he waited for the disgusting life to seep from his bones.

He wasn’t sure what it would be like to die, never having done it, but he sort of expected memories to flood his mind, reminding him of what he’d known and lost. What he got was the opposite. Memories werainrained from him along with the blood, and he couldn’t remember, couldn’t see… An image flashed: a blond vampire, fangs bared and pressed against a young redhead’s neck. The girl was trembling, the vampire snarling. He latched onto the image, clutching to it as his body became limp.

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Buffy watched, horrified, as Xander slipped away into death, mewling and pissing himself, writhing in his own blood. Heedless of the crimson pool coating her bare feet and seeping into the carpet behind her, she gaped at the corpse. It was the last in a long line.

Her mother, stretched out on the couch in their home, a blood clot in her brain;
Tara, shot by Warren with a bullet intended for the slayer;
Giles, who’d died in England, so far away the the hands of a Bringer;
Dawn, her baby sister, raped and drained by Angelus, who’d died on the end of her stake;
Willow, ripped apart by the black magic she just couldn’t escape;
Faith, who’d thrown Buffy out of the way and had been skewered by a Polgara; and
Spike, who’d turned to dust on a routine patrol, turning to kiss Xander, who’d just taken his own life, bleeding out on his kitchen floor.

It was too much. Buffy felt herself emptying, drifting into the darkness, where all was numb and quiet. Something else rose to the surface.

Slayer’s eyes opened.

Slayer was cold.

Slayer was hungry.

Slayer was alone.

As it should be.

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