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“You said I was perfectly welcome,” the vampire responded, easily anticipating the query.
Xander’s eyes narrowed. “I was being sarcastic.”
Spike shrugged. “Hey, I don’t make the rules, mate.” Seeing that the reply wasn’t bringing Xander any further down the stairs, Spike held up the six pack sitting on the bed beside him. “I brought beer.”
With a grin, Xander threw his juice into the nearest pile of trash and dove onto the bed next to Spike. “Did I ever tell you you’re my very bestest friend?”
Spike smirked and handed Xander a beer. “I should be your bloody ‘ero after this.”
After taking a sip of his beer, Xander looked up. “Yeah, right up there after Gumbi and Scooby Doo.”
“You know, whelp, that’s what I like about you. You’re just dumb enough not to be afraid of me.” Before Xander could come up with a witty retort, Spike slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m not finished.” He removed his hand. “I like people bein’ afraid of me. Just not any reason for ‘em to be anymore. Damn depressing. I don’t have any friends to share m’ misery with, either. Dru’s gone, never did like Angel all that much-”
“Hear, hear!” Xander chimed in.
“And,” Spike continued purposefully, “I’m sick of being alone. So. There it is. You’re the only one I don’t want to kill most of the time. The Slayer wants me dead too much for it to be fun, Willow’s too damn moral, Giles is a more uptight than my mum used to be, not a chance in hell of drinking with Buffy’s newest freaky squeeze, and that Anya of yours gives me the creeps.”
“You and everybody else,” Xander admitted.
Spike looked sidelong at his companion. “Do you love the girl?”
“No.”
“Like her, then?”
“Well . . . sometimes.”
“Just a horny teenager?”
“Pretty much.”
The vampire let out a short laugh and raised his bottle. “To easy girls in tight clothes!”
Their bottles clinked merrily and both men finished their beers and took another. Xander looked at Spike critically, as though looking could reveal the vampire’s motives in full. “I annoy you the least, huh? That’s a first.”
“What’d’ya mean?”
“I mean that . . . Nevermind.” Xander took another swig of beer and looked at his feet quietly.
“Now don’t you start with the brooding! Brain chip or no, I’ll kill you if you do.”
Smiling faintly, Xander assented, “Okay. It’s just . . . sometimes I feel like they really don’t need me. You even said so. You told me and Willow that, but Willow is useful. She can do spells and stuff. She helps. I just get in the way and keep Anya under control. Kind of. Sometimes. Every now and then. I don’t really ever do anything.” Xander knew he was getting drunk. He knew that was the only reason he would ever, ever consider talking to Spike. That and the fact that the room was beginning to look a little lopsided. Some clearer part of his mind registered Spike’s arm resting on his shoulders in a somewhat comforting way.
“I was just trying to goad you two. Didn’t really mean it,” Spike said softly. “The Slayer likes having you around, alright? Reason enough. She’s got it pretty dark most of the time and you’re light, so it makes it easier for ‘er to get along. You help.”
“I don’t-”
“Say it!” Spike insisted, punctuating the statement with a jarring jerk to Xander’s shoulders.
Xander gave in, stating as firmly as he could with Spike’s face inches from his, “I help.”
Satisfied, Spike leaned back a bit without loosing his grip on Xander. “There. Feel better?”
“Strangely, yeah. A little bit, yeah.” Xander took a long swallow of beer and immediately wished he hadn’t. It was getting hard enough to control his actions. And Spike wasn’t acting entirely as expected.
“I’m not such a bad bloke when you get to know me. Most people are dead before they do, of course,” Spike added solemnly.
“Not anymore.”
Spike growled, then became subdued. “Yeah, not anymore. You think you’re useless! What’s a vampire who can’t bite? What the hell am I supposed to do? Stay in my damn crypt all day feelin’ sorry for myself?”
Surprising himself, Xander put his hand on Spike’s leg in an attempt to comfort his new drinking buddy. “Hey, it’s not so bad. I mean, we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that chip thing, right? And you found out what a useless whore Harmony really is. Good stuff came, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. Just wanna be able to bit people again.” Spike looked down at the floor and then back at Xander as if pondering a particularly difficult thought. “You remember when I said you weren’t worth biting?”
“Vividly.”
“Yeah, well, I was lying. I’d bite you anytime if I could.”
Xander’s brow furrowed as he fished for a fitting response. “Um, thanks?”
“Just wanted you to know. Just... to know.”
“Okay.” Xander became uncomfortably aware of the fact that his hand still rested on Spike’s thigh and at the same time realized he had no intention of moving it.
Spike moved his free hand to rest gently on top of Xander’s, then delicately stroked the fingers, tracing the veins and bones of the hand. “You’ve got nice hands.”
“Uh, Spike?”
“Yeah?” The vampire didn’t look up from the business of slowly caressing Xander’s hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Just keeping myself entertained.” Spike continued his ministrations, oblivious to Xander’s rising discomfort.
Despite the thousand reasons running through Xander’s head detailing exactly why it was wrong for Spike to be holding his hand, for Spike to have his arm around Xander’s shoulders, for Spike to be anywhere near him at all, Xander felt his palms beginning to sweat and his heart launching into a strangely erratic new beat. He alternately wanted to run screaming from the room and stay there forever. “Spike . . .”
“Yeah?” This time he did look up, a small smile making his handsome face all the more beguiling.
Xander’s mouth opened and then closed. He had no idea what to say. He felt himself reaching out to touch’s Spike’s cheek. It was cold but amazingly soft, free of stubble or imperfections of any kind. His hand continued its exploration, ending on Spike’s neck.
The vampire instantly used Xander’s distraction to his advantage, pulling him close and pressing his lips against Xander’s without hesitation. He allowed Xander a moment to adjust to the position, then slowly forced the Slayerette’s lips open with his tongue, countless decades of experience letting him know precisely how to proceed, how best to keep Xander’s senses working hard enough that this mind would be oblivious to what was taking place. He felt Xander’s once-captured hand at his waist and moved his to the man’s hair, relishing its softness, its silky feel between his fingers.
Once he was certain any reservations Xander may have had were gone, Spike pulled away, arching an eyebrow. “What was it you wanted to ask me, mate?”
Xander swallowed and shook his head. “N-nothing,” he breathed, swallowing again without succeeding in clearing his mind or staying his raging hormones. “What just happened?”
“If I have to tell you that . . .”
“You know what I mean, Spike,” Xander pressed, sounding slightly more self-assured. “Between... between us.”
Spike smirked and lay back on the bed looking smug. “I think you just got a boyfriend.”