In the Blood
a Buffy the Vampire Slayer story
by Kate(ng)
There was a lot to be said for gainful employment. A lot. Definitely. Xander had told himself that repeatedly. Nice, respectable thought. Nice, respectable Xander. When you were sleeping with a member of the very male undead population, you had to be respectable about something, right? Especially when said undead boyfriend was a lot more fond of eating human food than of doing things to get money to pay for it.
Well, Spike had offered, that once. Hip cocked in nothing but obscenely tight black jeans, the dark blue eyes had even seemed sincere enough. Whether that was sincere in his willingness to do it, or sincere in his willingness to break Xander's brain with the suggestion, Xander wasn't sure.
You could never quite tell, with Spike. But whether his boyfriend had really been willing to have sex with random Sunnydale desperate types to sustain his Doritos fetish or not, the idea of dating a prostitute was really just that one step too far. Sleeping with an evil guy who loved him was one thing. Sleeping with the local British Vamp For Sale was something else. And if that only made Xander-logical sense, well, he was the one doing the thinking here, wasn't he?
Just like it was Xander-logical to be glad and sorry at once that the job he'd had a long day at was only a seasonal thing. Getting a stable job would be a good. Getting a stable job that involved getting kid-puke stains on his shirt might force him to actually quit for once, rather than wait it out until his usual firing. And that would mess up the whole system.
There was a lot to not be said for keeping a vampire in your basement, was the next thing Xander was telling himself, when he got home and got the door open to the smell of something like rare steak that definitely wasn't.
Things like dried blood in your coffee mugs, and Doritos with a shelf life of thirteen seconds once certain black-nail-polished hands found them, and microwaved-blood smell greeting you at the door every evening - half the time mixed with the smell of menthol smoke from cigarettes that were forbidden in human-lung airspace, and rolling over at three a.m. to see a very awake bleached blond head banging steadily to an air guitar while the feet kicked around the trash from an all night video session rather than cleaning it up.
If it kept meaning that ten minutes after coming through the door there was a very, very clever tongue doing lovely raspy things to the skin of his neck, Xander thought he might just be able to deal, though...
Lovely raspy things. Lovely enough that he was able to pick them out from all the other pleasant and interesting things that had started being done to him in those ten minutes, that had involved most of his uniform being removed in ways that might ruin the innocence of Santa's helpers for him for the rest of his life.
Things being done to him, or that he was doing. Or something. He'd lost track of who was doing what to whom at about the point where he'd started down the stairs wearing his best I've Had a Bad Day, Don't You Want to Kiss Me Everywhere Until I Scream To Make it Better?-face, only to find his lover wearing nothing but a pair of socks and a bit of strategically placed whipped cream.
Spike could say it as many times as he wanted, in as pitiful a voice as a wanting to have sex now vampire could muster, Xander was still never going to believe the 'decorations' were really the accidental result of a perfectly innocent attempt at making him a sundae to welcome him home from work. Unless Spike really intended to use that entirely lickable bellybutton of his as a dish. Which actually wasn't something Xander would put past him.
It was more likely he'd been going for the ice cream for himself since Xander hadn't been home to taste, though. And even if he'd had good intentions, it wasn't going to get him out of teasing for the socks. Yeah, vampire, no body heat, cold floors, and a pitiful big-eyed pout saying he just didn't want to chill Xander into getting the sniffles, but he could have picked something that wasn't the Muppets at Christmas, and allowed Xander to hold on to at least one innocent childhood icon.
Not that the thoughts going - not managing to go? - through Xander's brain at the sight were particularly worthy of childhood. And definitely not that what he had started tasting approximately a quarter of a second later wasn't vastly preferable to ice cream, even without the whipped cream topping, but it wouldn't do to tell Spike that when he could be teased instead. When you were five foot ten of sleek, lean muscled, wide-eyed, bleach blond, entirely edible vampire you apparently didn't need any admiration to actually be offered before acting like you were the hottest thing since…since…
Possibly that tongue on his neck, or the other things on his - other things - that his mind entirely refused to separate out as anything but 'Me, Spike, Nice'. And yeah, technically the tongue was cool, but what it was doing to repay Xander for his bout of tasting was hot, or making Xander hot, or, again, something.
Rational thought was not really an option, except that there was a kitty tongue tracing his jugular from a mouth that'd tasted like ButterPecan, which was also Nice, and the feel of human teeth nipping, and then the feel of something - shifting - against his cheek, the sensation Xander'd come to recognize as the change to vamped-out game face, and then the teeth pricking his neck were sharp, so very sharp, and this would be sweet, to come while Spike tasted him, just the little bit that was part of the love-play Xander trusted him to, only…
There was a thought in there. Xander was positive. Some reason why tonight… not tonight… if he could think of why he could muster a protest and Spike would stop, always stop that, at the slightest hint of refusal, even before it became denial enough that Spike would have to be hurting Xander against his will to do it, which would set the computer chip in the vampire's head off and leave Spike with a raging migraine.
But the tongue was Nice, and there were a lot of other things that were nice, and getting nicer, and if there was a thought why Spike shouldn't be tasting his blood tonight, Xander lost it, and he was right on the verge of losing something else as the so-sweet pricks at his neck went deeper, a moment's pain, then something coiling and lovely that felt like syrup tasted flowing from his veins…
He was about two breaths short of coming when Spike jerked back. The teeth left his neck and Xander opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to see pearl-white limbs, drawing back from around him as Spike sat back on his heels, pulling the important bits out of contact and giving Xander back enough brain function to think.
It was way past too late for Spike to be trying to make this any more complicated than two bodies moving together and two mouths that could get lost in one another even without the body contact and eyes that told Xander things he'd thought a vampire would never be able to say long before the vampire had shocked him by actually saying them, and…
There had been a question there somewhere. Oh. Spike. Not holding him. Not trying to try any more complicated sex, either - from the statement on his face, even if his body was still very much with the program, Spike's gnat-like attention span had shifted to something else. Couldn't be fear that he'd tasted Xander too deeply, he'd barely gotten one good pull, and not much else would distract even Spike from sex.
This was definitely a concerned statement, though, and Xander struggled to get enough blood into his brain to ask why, as Spike's wrinkled-brow, golden-eyed game face smoothed over into an almost as wrinkled human one. Features that sharp, a mouth that full - scrunched into a tight, worried statement, the lines were visible even in the dimness.
Xander slid back, trying to sit up, hips sliding underneath cool vampire and no, that was not helping with the getting blood back to his brain, thanks, but it did let him reach the lamp.
"Spike, what…?" And okay, he sounded concerned, which would normally make the vamp laugh at him - little mortal worried for the Big Bad? - but he'd never seen Spike go so still, especially with unfinished sex at, er, hand. Or something. There seemed to be a lot of things tonight that stopped at 'or something'. Like Spike's statement, which was definitely Frozen with Worry. Or something.
Wide now-blue eyes were crinkled at the corners, thick eyelashes seeming to draw down in flutters against his will. The full moth was pulled into a frown so deep it was almost a grimace, and when he drew a slow, deep, should-have-been-completely-unnecessary-for-a-vampire breath, his entire already too sharp features were stretched into harsh relief.
Watching the small, pert nose flare with the sharp breath, the Thought that'd been eluding Xander earlier suddenly walked up and re-introduced itself. Why he shouldn't have let Spike drink his blood tonight. Spike warning him repeatedly how sensitive he was, even for one of his kind, how the slightest amount affected him, and Xander could only imagine how much was in his blood… his hand fumbled more frantically at the lamp's switch. If he'd broken his vampire…
The light finally flared, making Xander wince as his eyes adjusted, but he fixed them on the vampire as best he could when he felt the taut body tense even further. Was it the light, ten times as sharp to vampire eyes, or-
Another deep shouldn't-have-been-needed breath and Xander's eyes went intent, and he really was going to hell - if sleeping with an evil undead guy hadn't insured that already - because he felt a shiver run up his spine and into the bits that weren't touching anything anymore but hadn't forgotten they should be, and if this was what he thought it was there was no way he could not enjoy it even if it did mean he'd broken his vampire.
The light came up, he put his hands lightly on Spike's thighs, fingers barely gripping lean muscle, watched the sharp chin tip back instantly and the little nose flare again, caught his own breath and managed again, "Spike…?"
The fluttering eyelids stopped their fight as the light hit, squeezing entirely shut of Spike's own will, but the breath that hitched through him wasn't on purpose, nor the next sharp sudden one, as the light seemed to tickle into his brain and "uhhh-UH-tchush!! Tchush!! huh-tchuh!! Huh-tchooh!!!"
Spike buried his face in the crook of one arm and tried to glare at the black eyed boy who hadn't warned him, the horrible tickle at the back of his nose telling him to catch a breath now and sneeze, for hell's sake, and get the horrible irritating stuff out. Which he knew it couldn't, because he'd guessed what'd happened, and the stuff was inside him now. And despite himself, before he could make his eyes stop blinking enough for a proper glare, "HUHtchuch!!Huuutsh!! huch-huch-huch!!Hayatch!! Damnit, Xander!"
He snuffled into the back of his wrist - oh, such dignity there, and like a hanky'd be better, Big Bad sniffly vampire - and finally managed his glare. Evil little puppy-faced human who'd offered him nummy tasty things in all directions and then interrupted right at the best bit with *this*.There had better be guilt there, there'd better be -
Spike lifted his head and blinked. "Xan?" Fought both the eye flutter and the breath but lost it to "Huhtshuush!!Hutsch!!" Okay, patent Xander Harris kick-me guilt in the wide eyes, yes, but - Spike peeked up again. Xander's hands were sliding lightly up and down the tops of his thighs, and it felt good, but it was a ticklish touch and he really had all the tickling he needed just this moment. "Huhhtschoo!! Gah."
The not-guilt flared stronger in the dark eyes. Spike was still trying to get his brain from 'really hot shagging' to 'Xander's freely given, trusting blood' to 'Xander's noxious, making his head explode and his brain itch all the way down to his fangs, blood' and there was no way he could decipher that look.
Especially when his eyes kept squeezing shut. "Hyutchch!" He pinched the bridge of his nose with tight fingers and only managed to make his head ring. And Xander was still looking at him in a way that had blood moving away from anywhere it would help his thinking processes, somehow guilty and guileless at once, eyes dilated and almost - entranced? With what, that he'd interrupted about-to-be-perfect sex to make his bloody head explode?
"Xan?" he managed again, and his own voice made him shudder. The one time he'd done this around Angelus the bloody poof 'd punished him for years with a mocking imitation of Spike's own voice. Wasn't his fault he hadn't noticed he was singing 'The Old Queen's Bastard Daughter' under his entirely unvamply stuffed-up breath, now was it? But could his Sire let it go? Of course not. Not like Angelus'd been able to hit a right note since before he had fangs.
Thinking about Angelus while in bed with Xander gave him the usual guilty shiver, and he didn't need any extra shivers anymore than he needed more ticklings, but Xander's hands were still lightly stroking his legs, and Spike still hadn't figured out why the hungry look was out fighting the guilty one in his normally entirely-too-quick-to-flinch lover. _Hell, he'd make such a perfect vampire_ "Huhhtschoo!!Hutch!" Spike sniffled and shook his head. Wonderful. Along with tainted blood, that one sip'd apparently given him a head full of Xander-babble too.
He sniffed hard, rubbed his nose. Sneezed uncontrollably, three times, and repeated the process with careful dignity. When he managed to actually plant a square look on his still-petting-him lover, he was gifted with Xander-babble that came from somewhere other than inside his head.
"Uhm, I had double garlic Fazoli's for lunch, and I remembered to brush a few times, but I kind of forgot it would be in my blood, or didn't forget, remembered, but forgot when you did the - with the whip cream - forgot to tell you, I mean, and I really didn't mean to do this, but when you said you were really allergic even for a vamp you did mean just this, right? I mean, I didn't break you or anything, did I? And I'm not meaning to still be, I mean, you look like you might still want, I mean, did I ever tell you I have a, uhm, well fetish-but-I-still-didn't-do-this-on-purpose and you look like you're about to-"
"HYUHHTCHUUH!!!" Spike's whole body flinched forward when the moment of control ended, and all he could do was send a disbelieving look at his lover - who was once again petting him and looking hungry - before slumping and burying his face back in the crook of his arm.
-TBC
Joss is God.