Christmas
"You don't get it, do you?"
"What?"
"I make it. I always do. Screw the chip, I get what I want. Goes with the territory, y'know?"
Spike stretched his arm out and flicked an unruly curl off Xander's forehead. Xander's eyes were hooded, and Spike snatched his arm back as Xander tried to grab his hand
"Ah-ah-ah. Don't touch what you can't afford, brat."
"Afford? I have a job - unlike some people around here." Xander raised an eyebrow. "Who paid for the beer? In fact, who paid the rent?"
"I see. So you bought me a drink or two and put me up for a few nights - now you want to sample the merchandise. You're such a pig."
"Shut up, it's not like that. If anything, you're right. You wanted me, you got me, Spike. Don't be such a pissy showoff."
"You wanted me - I saw you leering..."
A hand caught Spike round the back of his skull and he continued speaking virtually into Xander's mouth, lips moving over his own.
"Cheap sleaze..."
"Shut up, Spike."
"Filthy minded..."
"Shut up, Spike."
"No"
"I'll hide your nail polish."
"Ah, oh. That's... Bastard."
Xander pinned Spike against the back of the sofa, mouth against the smooth white neck. His hand was working up under the shiny fabric of the red shirt and he was already shoving back the coffee table with his foot when the phone rang.
"I'll get it." Spike leapt up and grabbed the handset. "House of shame, how may we help you?" He covered the receiver and mouthed "Willow" at Xander, who grimaced and reached out a hand. Spike ignored it and turned away, sliding one hand under the waistband of his jeans. Xander's eyes bugged. "Xander's a little busy, Red. How are you, love? We never talk anymore." his eyebrow quirked "That's not very polite, but do carry on." He unzipped his fly and snaked his hand down. Xander grabbed again for the phone, but his hand was seized and shoved against Spike's partly denim-covered erection. His mouth popped open to protest, but Spike was working himself quite shamelessly against their two palms. He continued in an appallingly over the top queeny voice "Yes, yes, must dash, Red love. Places to go, boys to bang. You know how it is." He dropped the handset back down and smiled sweetly at Xander.
"You were rude to Willow."
"Rather be rude with you."
"Did you just cut her off mid-sentence?"
"Yep. Do you really give a fuck?"
"Rather fuck with you."
"Oh good."
A few minutes later, Spike was lying on the floor, head dangerously close to the half-empty beer bottle by the sofa. Xander prudently moved it out of harm's way before doing what he'd been working up to, which was yanking Spike's jeans off and stroking him until he was very very very hard. Spike pushed up against him, knocking his elbow in the process and bumping his face with several inches of extremely turned-on vampire. Xander obligingly opened his mouth and took Spike's cock in. The hiss of pleasure Spike gave was all the permission he needed to carry on. He held Spike's hip bones down and worked for him.
Outside, it was dark. Sunnydale dark.
Xander woke up cold and uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. The corner of the sofa was digging into his calf, and his neck had a hell of crick. Spike's feet appeared in front of his face.
"Spike...."
An arm was slung under his knees and another under his shoulders. The world tilted in a drunken way. He was being carried.
"You're just gonna throw me on the bed and have your...wicked way with me, arentcha? Spike?" His voice was muzzy.
"S'right. Shut up."
He heard the grin in Spike's voice and relaxed into his arms.
Opened his eyes again as he hit the bed. Spike vanished back into the corridor and he heard lights being turned off, curtains being closed. The sun would be up soon, then. When Spike appeared again, flipping back the covers with characteristic jerky grace, Xander curled round him, head against his shoulder. Spike was hard again, eyes narrow and calculating. He pushed Xander roughly onto his back and ran a hand up his inner thigh.
"Sometimes you have no finesse, Spike."
"What? Don't tell me you want me to stop, Xander."
"You're such a pig."
"True. And?"
"Suck me off, you ungrateful bastard."
"No. I want to fuck you. Now."
Xander felt slightly dizzy. His erection was rock solid, almost painful.
"Al-alright. Kiss me."
"Soppy sod." Spike leaned up. He kissed Xander until the boy was breathless and sweating and his hands were fisted on each side of Spike's neck.
After a bit of awkwardness, the lube was dug out from underneath the bed and Xander found himself lifted bodily and turned around on the bed. Spike was running his hands everywhere, tweaking a nipple, stroking his cock. Heat ran over him, and he felt goosebumps along his arms as the cool, moistened fingers pushed into him. He pushed back carefully. Spike was turning his fingers inside him, and seemed to be lost in a private world, his lips parted and his eyes raking Xander's body in the half-light. The shivers running through him were easier to deal with after a few minutes, and he was opening up. Blood was pumping in his head and his cock, and he couldn't see. He arched his back a little and felt Spike's fingers slide further in. Spike drew in a sharp, unneccessary breath, and moved harder, faster. Found his prostate, guided by his gasp, and took delight in working it.
"Spike - stop! For fuck's sake, I'm gonna come..want you in me - Spike!"
The reply was almost a snarl. Spike pulled his fingers away, and Xander gasped.
"Now, please, please, Spike,now..." His head was back and his breath was ragged.
He was flipped over by powerful hands, and pulled into his hands and knees. Something - a thumb? - slid back into him. He breathed out and opened up, and a rough sigh escaped Spike.
"Fuck, Xander...you ready for me? Tell me you are. I want to know that you want it."
"I'm ready, Spike, fuck me...." His voice trailed off as he felt Spike sliding up between his thighs. Wetness felt cool on his skin. Spike's cockhead bumped at him. He had to breathe deeply, slow his giddy brain. Spike nudged him hard and he tried not to panic. The feeling was....almost terrifying. They hadn't done this enough for it to be easy. More than once in the past Spike had bounced back, cursing and clutching his head, while Xander panted and winced.
"Spike, w-wait..."
The pressure was intimate. Deep, although he knew he hadn't yet been breached. Spike was hoarse.
"Xander, please...."
"Spike, I can't, it hurts, it hurts, please wait..."
A hand ran up his spine, and Spike draped himself across Xander's back. "Shh, love, it's all right. Shh."
Xander hung his head and panted, felt himself relax. Felt Spike ease into him, a little a lot a fucking bar inside him. He felt...was he going to cry? It was bad but it was good it was good it was good. So full...
"Ohhhhhh..."
Spike moved inside him carefully, waited until Xander was moving himself, bonelessly and fluid, pushing himself back. He took a firmer hold of Xander's hips and started to fuck harder. Xander caught his breath and braced his arms against the mattress. Things were looser, easier. He felt his muscles relax and shivers began to run across his skin. Spike was silent, screwing his hips harder and deeper, his forehead pressed against Xander's shoulder and his teeth bared as Xander's panting became suppressed moans. Shadows around them moved as a car's headlights went by the window and the bed creaked as the weight on it shifted. After a while Spike grated out Xander's name and the creaking sped up. Xander's head went back, his eyes closed and his mouth slack. He gave one wordless shout as something like a shock went through him and his back flexed and jerked. Spike carried on moving as he shook. Spike's eyes were feral and he moved at an incredible speed. He dipped his head into Xander's neck and tightened around him, as the growl started in his throat. Xander, wincing slightly, let his head hang down and kept himself where he was as the snap of Spike's hips slowed.
"Aaaah - fuck, oh fuck, Xan..."
They both collapsed.
Tara slipped her key into the lock at the Magic Box. There wouldn't be anyone there until Monday, and she needed her headscarf. Anya would normally have ... no point continuing that thought. Anya was gone. A strange mixture of anger and affection had characterised her last few days in Sunnydale, and no one had needed to ask why. Tara had tried to comfort Willow and placate Dawn, but eventually just done her best to keep out of the way as Xander faced down his friends over Spike. The revelation that the relationship was almost as long-standing as his and Anya's had cost him, but had convinced Tara, if no-one else. She smiled as she heard voices in the training - the back room. Looked like he was here with Spike now. As she reached for the door handle, an open box on the counter caught her eye. A jeweller's box, with a slot in cheap velvet for a gift. The gift had presumably been accepted, and a note by the side of it, in neat joined-up ballpoint, said;
"For Xander,
In memory of the first time,
Love, Spike"
Tara picked up her headscarf and left quietly, smile still on her face.