I Get A Kick Out Of You (1 of 1)

(Characters: Not mine, Joss' - I'm just playin' with 'em)

(Written for a ficathon requiring that Cole Porter's song, I Get A Kick Out Of You, be incorporated somehow.)

(A/N: No exact season. Souled, unchipped Spike is obsessed with Xander, instead of Buffy in this version.)


“I got it, Spike!” Xander’s frustration was evident in his voice as he watched the vampire he’d been about to stake crumple into dust under Spike’s stake..

“No problem, mate,” Spike flashed a grin and joined Buffy on point, as they dusted the last remaining vampires.

Glowering, Xander rained curses under his breath. Lately Spike had been treating him like some sort of invalid. They’d go on these patrols and instead of concentrating on his own kills, it was like Spike was keeping an eye on useless Xander, running interference during every fight. Talk about making a guy feel inadequate! Glancing around, he wondered if the girls had noticed.

Spike played with his kill, then threw the vampire into Buffy’s waiting stake. “Right, that takes care of the last of them.”

“Yeah. I got nine.”

“You got eight, that last one was mine... Gives me nine. You’re losing your touch, Slayer.”

Buffy looked at the others, if only not make them feel left out.

“I got two,” Willow squee’d, “but they were big so maybe count for three. Hmm?”

Now six pairs of eyes were looking at Xander. Waiting for his report. The silence stretched.

“Zip for the zeppo,” he said, glaring at the bleached idiot vampire whose fault it was.

“Better luck next time, yeah?” Spike raised an eyebrow when Xander tossed his stake to the ground and stalked off. “He’s been a bit moody lately, hasn’t he?”

The girls exchanged looks. Buffy spoke. “You both have.”

“Huh?” And now he was staring at two feminine forms striding away and teetering over their shoulders. Could they know... He bit his lips in consternation. Could everyone but the object of his admiration know?

*

Spike cupped his hand around his smoke, lit up and took a deep drag. How long were they going to keep the boy at work anyway? Leaning against one of the crates piled up at the job site, he stared at the bungalow.

Through the window, he caught occasional glimpses of Xander, leaning over the table... running his index finger along a blue print, explaining something. His expressions changed by the second. There was the ever patient teacher. The eyeroll, followed by some funny quip, if not spoken aloud, surely in his head. The blank look, either from boredom or because someone decided to talk over his head. Yup... there was that self-mocking “huh?” face of his.

When had it happened? When had he realized that Xander Harris was pulling him back into the world of the living? He’d been going through the motions. Watching over Bit. Slaying with The Slayer and the scoobies. Making a living on the side through some activities none of them needed ever find out about. But time was slipping by, and he had no real goals. No challenges. No one to make happy. And that meant everything was flat...nothing made him happy either.

Then Xander would make silly, stupid comment. The sort that would have Giles coughing or cleaning his lenses. And laughter... real laughter would threaten to erupt from Spike. Naturally he kept it to a snort at best, but there it was. He felt something.

Catching another glimpse of the red and blue plaid shirt and rolled up sleeve, his heart lifted. Metaphorically speaking. And not too many things left to see in the world did that. “Stupid git, it’s just a fucking lumberjack looking sleeve.” But on Xander, it was special... funny.

His lips were still quirked up in a smile when Xander walked out.

“Oh no!” Xander groaned at the sight of the vampire.

“What?” Spike blew out a circle of smoke, and expertly sent a second circle through the first. “Not happy to see me?”

“Not really. I saw you last night. And the night before. Did Buffy put you up to this?”

“Up to what?” Spike’s gaze narrowed.

“Any special demons hanging around that I should be worried about?” Maybe this was some sort of protection deal no one had bothered to mention to the potential victim.

Spike smirked. “Only one.”

“A big bad?”

“You might say that. Yeah.”

“What kinda...”

“More ‘The Big Bad.’” He winked.

Xander trailed off and narrowed his gaze as realization dawned. “Not funny.”

“I thought it was. C’mon, then,” he clapped the boy on the back and started walking him at a fast pace.

Xander stared open mouthed at him and squirmed away. “I don’t know what’s with you. I don’t need to be walked home like some girl...”

“Mind, I don’t tell Buffy that.”

“Still not funny.”

“Not meant to be.” He watched Xander through half hooded eyes. The boy jammed his hands in his pockets, and walked with his head down. The look on his face was getting darker and more serious by the moment. Spike couldn’t help but think of gathering storm clouds. It was a pretty sight. Best of all, Xander’s bouts of anger and frustration dissipated quickly. “What’s on your mind? Go on. Tell me.”

Xander had been worrying his lower lip with his teeth, chewing harder the more he thought of every way in which Spike had made it his business to make him look small or incompetent over the past few weeks. This was his chance to get it off his chest.

“Invite me in. You can tell me all about it upstairs,” Spike said, nodding toward Xander’s apartment. “If there’s going to be shouting, it might be better inside.”

“No. No there’s not going to be any shouting. But I need to know something.”

Spike tensed under Xander’s suddenly intense scrutiny. “And what’s that?”

“Why are you doing this to me? Huh? Why...”

“Doing what?”

“Babying me...”

“I don’t bloody...”

“Making me look like an incompetent jerk...”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.... I think you look quite adorable.”

“Not funny. Look... you’re constantly diving into my fights... my battles...”

“Saving your arse,” the vampire crossed his arms. Was this what the boy was in a lather about?

“Yeah...no! You interfere when I don’t need your help...”

“Like when a nice pair of fangs is aimed at you?”

“Yeah... will you cut that out, and fucking listen?!?” Xander brushed the hair out of his eyes. “It’s too much. Everywhere I turn, you’re always there. Trying to save me when it’s not necessary. Turning up everywhere. Following me around, what’s up with that?”

“Maybe I like the view.”

“Still not funny.”

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Spike said, his voice a quiet whisper.

“Well I’ve had enough. If there’s something out there waiting to get me... if there’s a reason for this...this stalking... then fine, you tell me. Or else it’s gotta stop. What’s the matter Spike, cat got your tongue?”

Eyes locked with Xander’s, Spike wondered if this was the right moment. Would there ever be one?

“You just want to annoy me...it’s like a game, that’s what this is, right?!?”

“No. Truth?”

“Course I want the truth.”

“I’ve found I get a kick out of you.”

The blue eyes staring at him held a message. One that Xander couldn’t for the life of him read. “What’s that supposed to mean? You like making me look like an ass and laughing...”

“I’m not laughing. Not at you. But it’s true, you make me laugh.” The vampire shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “I was bored and had nothing to look forward to really. And now I look for you everywhere. You sort of... relieve the boredom and the emptiness.”

“Huh? You’re bored and... stop looking at me like that. You don’t mean... fuck.” Xander took a giant step back. “What is this. You’re saying...”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, we can take it slow and...”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Spike.... what? Just because Anya left me and I haven’t seen anyone in a long time, you suddenly think he’s desperate? He’ll take anyone.”

Spike raised his hands. “It’s not like that. I’m more than willing to talk about it upstairs, maybe prove to you there are sparks.” The instant denial that crossed Xander’s face irked him. “I’m a vampire, I bloody well hear your heart thunder when I touch you. Or get close....”

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want you to... ever think of that? I don’t like you touching...”

“You bloody well do like it. I can smell...”

“Listen, freak-o. If I liked guys, which I don’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t pick a vampire! Not even if you were the last man on earth. God... You’re so far beneath me–“ Xander sliced his hand through the air in frustration. The strangely pained expression on Spike’s face stopped him from saying more. But barely.

As he strode away and entered the building, he mulled over how Spike had said “I get a kick out of you”...not that any part of that convo had been anything but bizarre. But the phrase... he vaguely remembered Spike singing under his breath one night.

I get a kick ev'rytime I see
You standing there before me.
I get a kick though it's clear to me
You obviously don't adore me.

And that was the night Spike disappeared from Sunnydale, leaving the Scoobies behind.

[Five Years Later]

Dark Poet Café was packed tonight. It was late, but that didn’t mean anything in New York, the city never slept. Crimson and black stained walls, wrought iron furnishings with plush velvet cushions, and chandeliers in random locations of the room, gave the place an eclectic feel. As did its patrons. Although black was prominent when it came to clothing, there were splashes of color in the most unexpected places. Fire engine red hair, multi-colored hair tips, make-up that glittered or went iridescent under the strategically placed black lights, a rose peeping out of the buttonhole of a brocade jacket that belonged more in the last century than this one.

Spike shuffled his papers as he chose the next poem he would read. And then he felt it. The intense gaze that had followed him around town this past week. If he turned slightly, he’d see the boy. So different now. So persistent. So pitiful. He didn’t care to let him finish his pretty speeches. Forget finishing, he didn’t let him start. Opting to disappear before he got close. Let him try to compete with his years of experience dodging danger.

As soon as he was re-introduced, Spike cleared his throat. “This one, I call ‘After Death’.”

The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.
He leaned above me, thinking that I slept “

Xander’s throat constricted. Oh no, not another sad one. When had Spike turned into the king of sad? Had it been that night, when he’d dismissed the vampire so cruelly? Or did his poetry always have a sad bent to it. He sure hoped it was the latter, because he already had carried enough guilt about driving the guy from Sunnydale. But he hadn’t had a clue...not a single clue, that a thick-skinned vampire whose ability to insult, offend and annoy was legendary, would be crushed by a mean, but hardly very cutting comment? He blinked and concentrated on the rest of the poem.

He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold
That hid my face, or take my hand in his,
Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:
He did not love me living; but once dead
He pitied me; and very sweet it is
To know he still is warm though I am cold.

The subdued clapping hardly died down before Spike slipped away from his table and headed for the back. Before he ever reached the kitchens, he found his way barred by a solid wall of muscle. “Out of my way, boy. We have nothing to say to each other.”

“Wrong. We have plenty to say.” It had taken Xander a few times, but now he’d learned that the minute Spike felt his presence, he’d take the back way out. Not this time. “Spike, we have to talk.”

“Talk,” he snorted. “It didn’t work out so good the last time we talked. Now move out of my bloody way.”

“Uh uh.”

Spike raised a brow and met resistance as he tried to push by.

“Look, things changed. You know they’re all different now. I see things different.”

Spike’s eyes glittered with steel. “You’ve joined the vampires’ ranks, and now it’s okay for you to go slumming?” Oh yeah, he hadn’t missed the desire in the velvetty brown eyes he’d loved so long ago. “Sorry mate, but you’re beneath me. You don’t have a soul,” he said, poking Xander’s chest. “Move.”

“You have the memory of an elephant.” Xander barred the other vampire’s way, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of Spike’s body, trapping him there. “Give me a chance. Let’s talk this out.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Fine. Then you’ll listen.”

Spike struggled, tried to push Xander away, and was surprised by the boy’s strength. Of course he was a vampire now. But in a scuffle, he could still take him down.

“No you can’t.” Xander laughed. “I can tell, you were thinking you can kick my ass, right? Well, you’re wrong. Without you watching my ass, I learned how to fight. Now with the vamp strength...”

“I’ll wipe the bloody floor with your nose, you git. Just because you’re a bit bigger...”

Xander cocked his head in question.

“Not that much bigger,” Spike insisted. “Doesn’t mean you–“

Tired of arguing, Xander covered Spike’s mouth with his own, kissing him lightly. But Spike’s stubborn refusal to allow him the access he wanted inflamed Xander. “You won’t deny me,” he ground out against the blond’s lips, and slid his hand behind the guy’s head. This time, he held Spike’s head in place and forced his tongue past his lips.

Xander had imagined this a thousand times... even back when he was still human. But this was a thousand times better than his imagination. Plundering the silky depths of Spike’s mouth, tangling their tongues together, meeting resistance, forcing him to take more, to respond. And when he did... heat, the kind he’d never felt as a human. It enveloped him in a haze. Loosening his grip, he stroked Spike’s chest, slowly reaching down between them.

Spike bit down suddenly, and then pushed a startled Xander completely off him. Incensed at the boy, he wiped his mouth with his palm. “I told you I don’t want you... now fuck off.” Without giving the boy a chance to answer, he strode into the kitchen and headed out to the alley.

*

Hours later, after he’d picked a few fights in the worst neighborhoods in town and worked off his frustrations, Spike headed back for his studio apartment over a playhouse. Theater folk thought nothing of the fact that he slept all day, and haunted the streets all night. And that worked out fine with him.

As he approached the lobby entrance, he felt the boy’s presence again. “Bloody fucking hell, where are you?” he demanded, his gaze narrowing when Xander came up the stairs of a basement unit. “You’re spoiling to get a permanent ass kick, are you?”

“Not really. I’m hoping more for a chance.”

“At?”

“Your ass for starters?” Xander laughed. “C’mon Spike. You used to know how to laugh. At least you used to laugh at my jokes.”

“Was a long time ago. And you’re not getting anywhere near my arse. I don’t want you.”

“Liar.”

Spike raised an eyebrow.

“You once said you could hear my heart, that you knew from how I smelled I wanted you. Maybe you were right. I just... okay, I didn’t get it then. Spike, I didn’t know. Not until you were gone. Like in your poem... you know? And then it was too late.”

“It’s how it happens sometimes,” he answered coolly.

“Yeah. But now I have the senses of a vampire. I know what you want...need.”

“And I don’t have a heartbeat, so don’t go trying to –“

“No. But when we kissed.”

“You kissed me. I didn’t kiss you...”

“Yeah you did. And maybe I didn’t hear your heat beat. But I saw your pupils. The way they dilated all the way... you’re eyes got so fucking dark, it was hot... I could read your mind.”

Making a sound of frustration, Spike put his hand on the railing and went up the first stair. “Stop your childish stalking. It’s annoying.”

“I know. That’s how I felt when you stalked me. Remember? I was so angry... because everywhere I turned, there you were. And then...”

The rest of Xander’s words were lost as Spike’s mind went back to the night he’d forced himself to forget. Put this way, he could almost see where Xander was coming from that night. Maybe.

“... Well after that, you had to go play peek-a-boo, except you never popped up... and I didn’t know how to find you, and...”

“What happened. Who turned you?”

“Damned if I know.”

“So you did need me to watch your arse.” Spike drawled. “Does Buffy know?”

“Yeah... She gave me twenty four hours to get out of town and told me...”

“Told you what?”

“Next time she runs into me, I’m dust. Unless you train me to fight my instincts,” he rolled his eyes.

“So you’re here for training.”

“Fuck no. I couldn’t care less about it. I’m here for you. Come on... you know what I’m talking about,” his gaze lingered on Spike’s lips. God they’d felt good under his own. He’d do anything... even give up his blood cravings if his reward was Spike.

“I’m through with that. Being love’s bitch.” Spike shook his head. “I don’t want anyone. I don’t need anyone.”

“Spike. Who makes you laugh, these days?” He walked up to the blond and took his hand, squeezed it. “You know the only times I’ve laughed these past few weeks? It’s when I see you. Or when you get that ‘oh, shit, he’s here’ look and turn all prune-faced..”

“Sod-off.”

“I’d rather get-off.”

There was a long silence. Neither one breathed. Neither one had to.

Before Spike could make up his mind, Xander put his arms around Spike and hauled the slender vampire up against his already rock hard body. Seeing Spike’s eyes widen slightly, he answered the unspoken question. “Oh yeah... I’m ready... I’ve been ready since that kiss.”

Spike’s mouth went dry. This was completely different than anything he’d ever imagined. Xander Harris, the aggressor? This was all wrong. But when Xander’s arms banded tighter around him, forcing him closer as they took the stairs up into the lobby, he had a small inkling that he might like this.

Once they reached the hallway, Spike found himself plastered back against the wall as Xander all but mauled him. Pressing back against Xander, he felt the guy’s teeth scrape along his throat. The keys dropped from his shaky hands.

Xander bent down and grabbed them, then leaned forward and mouthed Spike where he bulged under black jeans. A groan escaped the blond, but before he could press Xander’s face closer, the guy was up and unlocking the door. He’d swear the guy was smirking. “Are you trying to be me....”

Laughing, Xander answered. “Yup. Always wanted to grow up to be you.” He dragged Spike inside, “now where were we? Oh yeah, I was right here...” this time, he undid Spike’s belt and shoved his hand down his pants, squeezing him.

Another groan escaped Spike. It was clear Xander had done this before. That was another thing he hadn’t expected.

He felt a wet tongue slide across his length, and he was lost. Jerking forward, he gripped Xander’s head, trying to force him closer. Instead, the boy tortured him with light touches, strokes that made him burn with desire.

“Harder. Xander,” he tried to force Xander closer, “come on!” he snapped impatiently.

“No.”

“What?” With Xander’s hand now closed around him, squeezing him, he grew rock hard. “What do you mean...”

“I mean, I want control Spike.”

“What... “ Spike put his hands over Xanders, to show him what he wanted, but to his frustration, Xander’s hand fell away.

“I want control. I mean it Spike. I’m taking control, or this stops.”

His cock was alive and pulsating. Desire flooded every cell in his body. He wasn’t about to argue. “Alright,” he croaked. All he knew was if Xander didn’t start touching him again, then he’d have to help himself. His hand fluttered close to his cock, only to be slapped away.

“Uh-uh, I say when you get touched. Take off your clothes, I want to see you.”

“Bloody hell I...” his complaints trailed off when he saw the serious look on Xander’s face. As he stripped, he felt Xander’s eyes on him. Traveling slowly over every bit of skin he exposed. The look was so hot, he almost felt it trail over him.

Their eyes locked. Xander shrugged out of his shirt. The corded muscles of his chest were just like Spike remembered. All those surreptitious looks... now he could look his fill. And then Xander was on him, pushing him back toward the bed, then down.

Cupping his chin in an impossible grip, Xander kissed him, long and hard. Until both their mouths felt raw. Until their bodies were so hard and heavy, neither one thought he could bear it. Until they rocked together so hard, the box springs made noises like it would give out. When he was close to the edge...when he couldn’t take it an instant longer, he lifted himself up. “Turn around.”

Although he looked a bit leery, Spike did as he was told. If Xander hadn’t been so far gone, he might have smiled at the thought of anyone ordering Spike around. “On your knees. Hold on to the rails.”

“I don’t need to...” Spike felt the sting of a slap to his ass and did as he was told.

“Don’t let go.”

Spike swallowed hard. Xander’s mouth trailed down his back. Every muscle in his body tightened as he felt him reach his ass. “Oh God... Xander, now...”

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this... waiting to fuck you?”

“No need to wait, yeah?”

“Don’t let go of the rails,” Xander snarled, morphing when Spike’s hand slipped. He adjusted himself behind Spike.

“What about the... argh...” Spike groaned, both with pain and pleasure.

“That’s for wusses. We’re vampires.” Xander slid his hand around Spike’s cock and started stroking, fucking him at the same time. Harder and harder, occasionally barking out an order for the blond to keep holding the rails instead of reaching back for him.

Spike pushed back, grinding himself into Xander, biting his lip as Xander’s hands increased the rhythm of his strokes. Blind with desire, Spike panted, and wriggled harder, reaching for his release. Xander’s groans against his ear, the pounding of the rails against the wall, the squeaking of the springs reached a crescendo. Suddenly, both men were calling out each others’ names, as they came with the violent force of vampires.

*

The sound of a piano notes had Xander opening one eye, then the other. And then it hit him, he was in bed with Spike. Spike, whose hands were even now exploring his chest. A deep rumble of laughter came from his chest. He’d never in a million years expected to find himself snuggling with the blond.

“Sleep. Early,” Spike muttered.

“Yeah... what’s with the music?”

“Musical. Practicing. Ignore it.”

“‘kay.” But listening to the lyrics, Xander couldn’t ignore it. Instead, it put a smile on his face.

I get no kick in a plane,
Flying too high with some guy in the sky
Is my idea of nothing to do,
Yet I get a kick out of you.

“I think we have a song...”

“Sleep!” Spike growled, and landed bodily on Xander’s chest, as if to force him to stop moving around.

“I get a kick out of you,” Xander sang, vowing to learn the rest of the words of the song.


(*poem by Christina Rossetti - After Death)
(Inspired by, Cole Porter’s “I Get A Kick Out Of You”)


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