A Wooing, In Three Parts
One day, fourteen hours and twelve minutes after the first date, he found the piece of paper sitting neatly folded on top of his not-so-neatly made bed. Xander picked it up and plopped down with a slight bounce as he unfolded and read its contents quietly aloud to himself.
"The sunrise in the morn'... across a sky of clearest blue... recalls to me your smile... and 'tis for you I... yearn?" He paused and tilted his head to the side, rereading the bit of prose before looking up, confused, "Morn and yearn don't even rhyme..."
Spike stalked in from the hall where he had been silently listening, a scowl on his face, and snatched the note out of Xander's hand, "Close enough, innit?" He reexamined his handy work before crumbling the paper with a sigh.
Xander stood, smiling, "Points for effort, though. No one's ever written me a poem before."
"Ah, ah, ah..." Spike held a finger up, fending off the incoming kiss to the cheek with one hand while producing a cigarette from thin air with the other, "I can do better. And I'll not have pity kisses for crummy poetry, thank you very much." Xander just blinked at his back as he wandered back out into the apartment.
Nineteen hours and... give or take some minutes after the first poem, he found the second. Taped to the refrigerator with his name scripted carefully on the back. A grin already curling the corners of his lips up, Xander pulled it down quickly and read it.
My desire for you
smolders and flares inside me.
Love: I am consumed.
Xander reread it and then slowly turned to see the blonde standing in the doorway, looking expectant.
"Um... haiku?" Upon the arch look from Spike, he quickly added, "It's better than the last one, I really like it."
The vampire growled and swiftly darted in the room, plucked the scrap of paper out from between Xander's fingers, and then whirled around and trudged out of the room.
Xander sighed.
Seven hours later, Xander let himself back into the apartment, returning late from a Scooby pow-wow, and frowned when he realized all of the lights were off in the apartment. He wandered further in, thankful for the glow from outside the windows giving him enough light to see by.
"Spike?" He walked through the living area and towards the bedroom, "I'm home... and..." He stopped, shoulders sagging dejectedly as he entered the bedroom and found no one, "You're not - AH!"
Landing hard on the bed, Xander tried to squirm around and felt a cool hand slip under his shirt from behind, fingers skimming along his side and worming underneath him to press on his chest. A throaty voice murmured in his ear, "I bask in the sunlight your eyes reflect upon me."
The brunette froze, gasping as a second hand palmed the front of his pants and rubbed, slow and firm, "S-spike?"
Soft lips mouthed at his neck and licked over the pulse point, "Your skin is warm and flushed as it trembles beneath my hands. The wine of your life trickles from my mouth," Blunt teeth nipped carefully at the back of his neck and Xander shivered, hips rocking down into the hand cradling his cock through his jeans.
Spike traced his tongue along the back of Xander's neck to his other ear and purred out, "For you... I burn."
The vampire chuckled as the boy under him arched back with a moan and let out a shaky breath before speaking, "I was wrong. You're the poetry master. The Illicit Master of Erotic Poems. I'll testify to that."
Socketing his hips in behind Xander and rocking against his ass, Spike tweaked the mortal's nipple and grinned at the groan it earned him, "Well then, let's make sure you're an avid, and more importantly naked, audience and then I'll talk all you want, love."