Xander can’t stop looking at him. Spike’s across the room, not really paying much attention, just sitting there, watching some movie on TV with a lot of car chases and explosions and less plot than scantily clad women, snorting derisively at the poor depiction of gruesome injuries, and Xander wonders how the fuck he got so lucky.
He’s always been stubborn, Spike, but he’s always stood behind Xander. Well, less behind in more in front when it was a life-or-less-life situation, but Xander’s pretty much okay with that bit. Spike supports him, takes care of him, loves him. And Xander still isn’t sure why.
The show is over, close the storybook
There will be no encore
And all the random hands that I have shook, well they're
Reaching for the door
I watch their backs as they leave single file
You stood stubborn, cheering all the while
But there are gift horses’ mouths and there’s lucky-star-counting, and Xander knows which one he’s going to glance at most of the time. He’ll take it for granted as long as he can, if only because it’s nicer if he doesn’t have to question it. Xander isn’t Spike’s type; isn’t sophisticated or well-adjusted or fuck-you-world-I’m-busy-right-now-and-don’t-call-back. Xander’s quirky and silly and unsure and insecure and funny, in all senses of the word. But Spike loves him even though. Maybe because.
I know I can be colorful
I know I can be grey
And I know this loser's living fortunate
'Cause I know you will love me either way
Waking up next to Spike in the morning is an experience Xander never thinks he’ll get used to. Blue eyes and white puff-ball hair, blinking at him owlishly like Spike’s just come out of a dream about pink elephants and needs to get his bearings again before he can smile lazily and say “Good morning, beautiful,” forgetting he’s the sexy devil-sure-as-shit-doesn’t-care-and-fuck-you-for-thinking-I’d-give-a-damn-anyway vampire that brings terror into the hearts of men and women and insecure lovers everywhere. Forgetting and being…loving. No matter if Xander’s spent the night lamenting lost friends, past actions, poor meal choices, in his sleep. Spike makes it better.
Most were being good for goodness sake, but you
Wouldn't pantomime
You are more beautiful when you awake
Than most are in a lifetime
Through the haze that is my memory, well
You stayed for drama, though you paid for a comedy
Xander’s lucky, and he’s okay with that. Okay with having an auto-self-destruct timer on his relationship, because for the first time he’s not thinking about what’s going to happen. He’s too busy living in the moment, because every moment with Spike is a perfect, wonderful lifetime, and Xander knows he’s lucky to have had as much time as he already has with this lithe, graceful creature, and doesn’t want to think about how he’ll deal with Spike not being in his life anymore when the time comes, but he’s been lucky.
I know I can be colorful
I know I can be grey
And I know this loser's living fortunate
And I know you will love me either way
Look ahead as far as you can see
We'll live in drama, but we'll die in a comedy
I know I can be colorful
I know I can be grey
And I know this loser's living fortunate
And I know you will love me either way
Xander’s colorful, but Spike…Spike’s a prism. Xander can look at him, a single look, and see a million different shades and colors and personalities shooting out in all different directions. A million different layers, and if Xander pays attention to how he’s looking at Spike, really makes an effort to look at him a certain way, he can almost control which personality, which shade is going to come out, and what direction it’s going to head. Most of the time, though, Xander lets Spike surprise him, because it reminds him just how lucky he is. Because Spike’s very good at surprising him.
I know I can be colorful
I know I can be grey
And I know this loser's living fortunate
And I know you will love me
And I know you will love me
And I know you will love me either way
Xander’s always surprised, because Spike loves him. He’s lucky, and he’s okay with it.
