Twelve Hours 8
Minutes later they were walking at a near–jog to Xander´s apartment.
He barely remembered the exchange that had steered them out of the alley, because as soon as the idea of being alone with Spike back at his place fully penetrated his thinking, he was in a rush to get moving. Spike had laughed when he´d taken the first few steps, pulled him back and pretty much yanked him into his clothes. But there was a tiny part of Xander that had voted for going as is if it meant getting there faster.
Once or twice they stopped in doorways or in dark alcoves, Spike doing that almost sub–sonic growl thing that made Xander gasp and move up and down against him before Spike even got him backed up against a wall to kiss him. Every step brought them closer, and every step was one too many to have to take to get what he wanted.
At least he wasn´t the only one who wanted.
"Going to fuck you all night long," Spike muttered as they crossed the last street that took them to the apartment complex. His hand rested on the nape of Xander´s neck. "Every way I can have you, for as long as it lasts." His fingertips massaged Xander´s neck and then gave a tug to the rope–necklace Xander wore. "You like that, don´t you?"
"Like it," Xander agreed, and stepped forward with renewed urgency.
"Spike," a low voice said.
Spike´s fingers on Xander´s necklace tightened as Xander was in mid–stride. Xander tried to swallow the choking sound he made in response as he came to a stop.
"Barry," Spike said in a bored voice.
There was a moment like a picture coming into focus, in which Xander gaped at a salmon–skinned jagged–toothed seven–foot–tall humanoid demon and thought, "Barry? Couldn´t your mom have picked something to strike even the tiniest bit of fear into people´s hearts?"
But then everything else blurred out, and all Xander could see was Spike stopping in front of him, subtly blocking him (protecting him?) from the demon´s view. He skidded closer to Spike, then snaked his arms around Spike´s torso, lowering his head to lick and bite gently along Spike´s neck.
"Spike," the demon answered. "Good to see you." There was a pause. "That´s a nice boy you´ve got there."
Spike´s shoulders tensed just a little, and Xander´s hands were rubbing at them before he had thought it through much at all.
"Yeah," Spike said finally. "He´ll do."
"Haven´t seen you at the bar for a while," Barry said.
Spike´s shoulders eased down.
There was a back–and–forth then that Xander didn´t pay attention to, something about poker and whiskey and a get–together at Jake´s. He hummed a little to himself as the talk sent vibrations through Spike´s chest, and sighed as he brushed his lips along Spike´s neck.
"Well. Places to go, boys to fuck," Spike told Barry. "Come along," he told Xander in a low voice, and Xander stumbled to follow him.
"Got him on that yohimbe powder, huh?" Barry asked as they passed him. "He´s got that look to him."
"Hang on." Spike stopped. Xander reached out to grab him again, and Spike waved him away. "Take a seat over there, pet. Daddy´s going to find out what Barry has to say."
So Xander sat cross–legged on the grass that Spike had pointed to, rubbing his arm to smooth up and down the goosebumps he got even just from hearing Spike talk to the demon in low tones a few feet away. Spike talked, the demon talked, and they kept on talking, Xander let his eyes half–close as he remembered having Spike in his mouth, having Spike push inside of him. By the time he´d let his hand drift up to trace over his nipples, first one, then the other, back and forth, back and forth, he was panting.
"Let´s go," Spike said at last. Xander scrambled to his feet and followed.
Barry had gone at some point. But that didn´t occur to Xander until they were already inside of his building and at the hallway leading to his apartment. And really, he didn´t much care about what happened to Barry, though when he thought about Barry´s teeth, he got the funny sensation that he was supposed to . . . do something, tell someone, about that. In case of . . . something.
"Well?" Spike asked, and instantly Xander focused on him.
"Here." Xander clenched and unclenched his fists when they stopped at his door. "This is . . . I live here." His voice sounded hoarse to him, as though he hadn´t spoken in a long time.
"Have to invite me in, pet," Spike said. " "Course, have to let yourself in first."
"Right, right," Xander muttered. His hand shook as he got his key out, as he tried to insert it in the lock.
Finally Spike took the ring from him with a jangle and opened the door.
Xander stepped inside and swallowed. "Come in."
One second Spike was standing there in the hall. The next he was holding Xander against the now–closed door, covering Xander´s lips with his.
Xander whimpered against Spike´s mouth as he parted his lips. Then he gasped, because his t–shirt was being torn right off him.
"Don´t you worry about that little run–in back there," Spike told him. He groaned and thumbed over Xander´s nipples, and Xander´s back arched as he tried to get more of that touch. "Watched you over there, when you thought I wasn´t paying attention. Couldn´t go long, could you, without it? If I´d kept on, would you have taken yourself out, fisted yourself because you couldn´t wait?"
Xander pressed his chest against Spike´s hands with a moan, and then said, "Um. What?"
For a moment Spike stopped and just looked at him. Then: "Have you, all of you," Spike muttered, and it didn´t make sense in Xander´s head, but then again it didn´t need to, because all he had to do right now was hold onto Spike´s arms, suck on Spike´s tongue, and move against Spike until he heard the growling sound that meant Spike really liked what he was doing.
WIP
