Bad Things That Might Happen
Xander was only mildly surprised to find his wrists bound to his desk chair and a gag wrapped tightly around his mouth. He opened his eyes slowly, and took in as deep a breath as he could through his nose. Well, at least he was still in his apartment. And his head didn't hurt, which meant he probably wasn't knocked out by some sort of heavy object or drugged with something. That was a plus. He looked around his semi-dark living room, trying to figure out how much of his stuff was missing, when he saw Spike sitting on the couch, looking at him with a Very Serious Look.
He made an inquiring noise, moving his hands a little to indicate the fact that he was still tied up, even though Spike was there. Spike just raised an eyebrow, and the logic-centric part of Xander's brain, which was admittedly not very often used, pointed out in a rather sarcastic voice that if he was still tied up and Spike was in the room and Spike hadn't untied him, it was probably Spike who had tied him up in the first place.
To borrow a phrase from Oz, huh.
"No, I'm not going to untie you," Spike said against Xander's look. "Yes, I'm serious," he continued. "You and me need to have a talk. After the mess that was this year, I'm turning over a new leaf and actually telling people what I think. And shut up, Harris, I always speak my mind, which is not the same thing as telling people what I think," he said after Xander gave him a pointed look. "Like, I tell you I want Cheetohs or a new pint of blood or Italian for dinner, which isn't the same as telling you I love you."
Spike squinted a little. "Does it hurt when your eyes bug out that much? Because it really looks kind of painful."
He slid from his recline on the sofa to come to a stand in front of Xander. Xander looked up, a little bit of fear and a whole lot of question showing in his eyes, and Spike chuckled a little, brushing the hair from Xander's face. "I find it funny that someone saying 'I love you' to you scares you more than being tied to a chair in the middle of the night. But, you're Sunnydale-bred, so I suppose it's in your blood now."
Spike pushed the chair back so it tilted against the desk and climbed over Xander so that he sat in his lap, his legs splayed over Xander's thighs and his groin bumping not-so-uncomfortably against Xander's.
"The thing is, Harris," Spike started, and Xander swore his voice dropped another register and did some hinky thing that made it all...dark, and glittery, and undeniably sexy, "we've had our turns this year, going at each other. I did enjoy living in your closet, after all," he said with a wicked smile.
"But the trouble with you humans, it seems, is that you don't quite get the stuff vampires are made of. You always call us monsters, evil things--which is pretty valid, actually, sort of our purpose in life. But we're preternatural creatures--that's the key word, there, Harris, preternatural. We don't follow the rules you lot have cleverly set out for us. We live on the essence of humanity--blood, love, passion, anger, hunger, all those things homo sapiens like to keep bottled up inside of them and only let out when they feel like it. Or so they say, I've never found it to be particularly true.
And so--stop squirming, Harris, let me finish the lesson before you go all wriggly down there--the important bit here is love. I could argue with you until you're blue in the face (I never really get blue in the face, I'm always more of a pale yellow really) about the nature of love and whether it's only a human thing or a soul thing, but the bare fact is, love is just one of those things that's open call for all things. Now, some people express love in hearts and chocolates, and others in dead puppies, but that doesn't change the fact that it certainly does exist for vampires and humans alike.
The point I want to make, love, is that I do seem to have developed a sort of affection for you--do you honestly think I would have gone to the trouble of tying you down and shutting you up if I didn't?--and that it's just something you're going to have to come to accept. Vampire love doesn't really ever wane--we get tired of each other, or tear each other to bits, or go on a massacre in South China, but the love business never seems to go away. I suppose that when vampires do something, they don't really do it halfway.
"And before you get started on the million reasons why this can't possibly be happening, let me counter your arguments. First off, I do still love Dru, and I do still love Buffy, and I do still love Angel--by the way, we're never playing that drinking game again after the information I divulged over a few Red Bulls and tonic--but that still leaves room for your loud arse, so don't go running around with that thought in your head.
Secondly, you too are in love with me. The Red Bull and vodka road goes both ways, my friend, and you're only truly honest when you're drunk. You're a surprisingly good liar, especially when it comes to telling yourself things.
Finally, my dear Xander Harris, you are currently humping me like an unneutered dog, which you only do with people you love, because you are such a girl you can't do the sex without love thing. That should have tipped you off before anything else."
Spike ground down hard on his last couple words, causing Xander to suck in a sharp breath through his nose. "Understand?" Spike mumbled against Xander's jawline as his hands reached around to untie the gag. Xander nodded hard, his eyes slipping shut as Spike worked against him, and when Spike finally took the balled-up sock from his mouth, he coughed a little before whispering hoarsely, "Okay."
The smile Spike gave him was more than worth the trouble it had been to put it there.