Chapter Three

The demon roared. It roared a single word: MINE! Spike gripped the sides of the kitchen sink and fought the raging beast within. As soon as he’d seen the platinum bands, one thick, and one thin, encircling Xander’s tanned finger, the demon had shrieked. It had taken every bit of Spike’s strength to smash the demon down and smile nicely at Xander. Still holding the demon tightly, he had cleared the dinner dishes and sent Xander out to the car for his belongings. Without releasing that desperate hold, he had shown the other man to the guest room at the head of the stairs and left him to get settled. He’d walked slowly out of the room and down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grabbing the sink, he had released his hold, and the demon sprang free. Spike had felt his face change into the demon visage, his fangs dropping and the ridges appearing on his forehead. The rational part of his brain decided to just let it go for a few minutes, so he tried only to keep the noise down as the beast raged. The rings – a claim! Someone had claimed his boy!

As soon as the rage started winding down, Spike slowly reasserted his control over the demon. He panted harshly as he mentally pushed the demon down, into the background, away. The beast went reluctantly, still wanting to howl out its rage. When Spike heard Xander’s footsteps on the stairs he straightened up and shook his head to change his face back to normal. By the time Xander entered the kitchen, Spike was pulling two more beers out of the fridge. Turning, he held one out to Xander.

Xander took it gratefully and stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, nervously. Spike noticed that he’d changed out of his jeans and into a pair of soft cotton sleep pants that were a deep burgundy in color. He still wore his black tee shirt, and his long, tanned feet were still bare. Spike closed the distance between them and laid a hand on the darker man’s shoulder.

“Xan, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, you know. You’re welcome here.” Blue and brown eyes met, and Spike saw relief flood Xander’s expression.

“Thank you,” Xander sighed. He held Spike’s gaze. “I want to tell you the whole story, but I just don’t think I can start it without finishing it. And I don’t have the strength to even start it tonight.”

Xander looked so miserable that Spike knew he had to give his friend – and yes, he thought to himself, this man is my friend – a break. He pushed the tense shoulder under his hand in a friendly gesture and asked, “Movie, bed, or go out and kill something?”

Xander’s eyes lit up and then his expression hardened. “Kill something” he gritted out. “Definitely kill something.”

“Well, OK then!” Spike’s exultant shout caused Xander to start. Spike turned and pushed the other man toward the stairs. “Go get changed and I’ll call Dawn and see where she needs a patrol tonight.”

Xander hesitated. “Um, Spike …. It’s all right if you tell Dawnie I’m here, but can we save the big reunion scene until tomorrow night? I’d really just like to kill something, take a shower and crash tonight, OK?”

Spike pushed him toward the stairs again and said, “You got it, mate,” as he headed for the phone.



At 2:00 in the morning, the two men stumbled into the house, exhausted, happy and completely covered in thin, brown, sticky demon slime that smelled like a sewer. Every time they looked at one another they broke out into hysterics. Spike’s hair was completely flat on one side and standing up in individual slime-coated, hardened strands on the other. Xander had taken a huge wad of slime to the back of the head, so his dark locks stood out around his face like a lion’s mane.

Spike had led Xander around to the back of the house so they could enter through a conveniently placed laundry room. They stripped off their shoes, socks, jeans and tee shirts, throwing them directly into the washer. Spike started the machine and poured soap in, hoping that the demon slime wouldn’t invade the appliance and make it reek forever. He handed Xander a towel and began mopping his own face with another. They leaned weakly against the washer side by side to catch their breath. Spike looked at Xander as the other man tried to rub demon slime out of his hair. His observations earlier had been correct. Xander had changed a lot. Every muscle in his arms stood out in sharp relief as he rubbed at his hair. His chest was sculptured, with flat pecs that led down to defined abs. The center of his chest was covered with an arrow of dark hair that trailed downward in a silky line. A pair of black boxer briefs rode low on his hips, exposing the hollows where the oblique muscles curved below their waistband. Spike tore his eyes away and mentally shook himself.

Wouldn’t do to get caught staring at the boy like a starving wolf, now would it? He wondered if the demon was breaking through. As a vampire, Spike wasn’t burdened with any human compunction about the gender, or even species, really, of those he found attractive. He just went with the feelings – he’d had both male and female lovers in the past. However, the Xander he’d previously known was fairly aggressively hetero, despite a one-time plea for Willow to “gay him up” so he’d stop attracting demon women. And the ring. If Spike wasn’t mistaken, it was a wedding ring, and the soul was in no way willing to let the demon poach. Spike raised a towel to his own head and tried to remove some of the slime coating his hair.

Xander lowered his towel to work on cleaning off his arms, and took the opportunity to look at Spike. His body looked exactly the same. He still stood in pale perfection – his body was like a marble statue. Each muscle was as sculptured as Xander remembered, and his skin still had that beautiful, translucent sheen that invited a touch to see if it felt as smooth as it looked. Hesitantly, Xander ran his eyes down Spike’s body. He remembered the vampire’s proclivity for eschewing underwear, and wasn’t sure if he was ready for the Naked Spike Experience. Thankfully, he noted that Spike was wearing a pair of white boxer briefs similar to his own, though they were skin-tight and didn’t leave much to the imagination. Xander averted his eyes, feeling his face flush. He hoped the stink of the slime would cover the smell of the sharp stab of arousal he felt.

Xander admitted to himself that he had always admired Spike’s body. After he had left the Hellmouth and moved away, Xander had tried pretty much everything. He had found that there were several things he disliked: hard liquor, cocaine, homelessness, getting his ass kicked, and jobs that required either a hairnet or a nametag. Along the way, he had also found several things he did like: good beer, sushi, the occasional joint, a comfortable bed, a good job, computers, martial arts training, and both girls and boys. When he’d lived in Phoenix for a year he’d even had a stormy relationship with another man for a while. After that, he’d been able to recognize the feelings he’d always had about Spike. The feelings of attraction he’d felt for the blond vampire had been quickly sublimated into anger and sarcasm at the time, because he had been way too tight-assed to see what they really were.

Spike missed the faint smell of arousal coming from Xander, but he couldn’t miss the huge surge of self-loathing, shock and despair that followed it. He dropped his towel and turned to face Xander, who was shaking like a leaf. Spike reached out to him, but stopped when he saw the other man flinch instinctively. He turned the reach into a gesture toward the door to the kitchen.

“There’s a bathroom across from your room, if you want to get a shower. Towels are in there.” Spike watched silently as Xander bolted for the door.

Xander stood under the pounding hot water and scrubbed his hair yet again. The demon slime had started to dissolve after the third application of shampoo, and the fifth round seemed to be the charm. Once he was completely clean, he allowed his thoughts to finally come to the surface. He thought about the feelings that had overtaken him in the laundry room. He had been standing there thinking about Spike’s body and how attractive it was. He’d felt aroused. And then he’d felt awful. How could he feel that way for someone, anyone? How could his mind and body betray Shari’s memory like that? The threatening tears welled up in his eyes, and he ducked his head under the spray. He braced his arms on the walls of the shower and sobbed into the water pouring down his face.

Eventually, the storm passed, and his breathing returned to normal. This was not the first time he’d broken down since his wife’s death, but it was the first time for this particular reason. He’d done the therapy, and he’d been warned that the first time he was attracted to anyone would be traumatic. He had totally convinced himself that it wouldn’t be a problem – because he’d never be attracted to anyone new again, anyway. Well, he hadn’t counted on the someone new being someone old. Sighing, he grabbed the soap and washed his face, grimacing at the feel of the prickly stubble.

The water had started to cool, so Xander stepped out of the shower and wrapped his body in another one of Spike’s fluffy, white towels. He rummaged in the small leather kit he’d brought in earlier, and smiled when he came up with a razor.



Spike stood under the pounding hot water in his own shower and also completed the fifth shampooing of his hair. He scrubbed his body and then cocked his head to listen. There it was; he’d been wondering how long Xander would last before the dam of emotions broke. He could hear the broken sobbing. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, figuring the least he could do was to try and allow the other man enough hot water to last until the end of his crying jag.

Padding naked into his bedroom, he slipped on a pair of black sweatpants and a cream-colored long-sleeved tee shirt. He ran a hand through his towel-dried hair and considered going back to the bathroom for hair gel. He decided against it and slipped out the door. He walked to the head of the stairs and paused in front of the bathroom door, placing his hand against the wooden surface. He could hear Xander’s sobs tapering off. With a sharp nod, he continued downstairs to the kitchen.

By the time Xander entered the kitchen, Spike had the fire lit and a mug of hot chocolate waiting on the low table. The fire was the only light, and Spike was sitting far back in one of the club chairs, sipping from his own mug. Xander crouched in front of Spike’s chair and looked directly into his friend’s eyes. The blue eyes widened slightly as the vampire noticed that Xander had shaved. He stifled his immediate impulse to lay his hand flat on the sharp planes of the tanned, gaunt cheek. Xander spoke quietly.

“I know you’ve guessed that things are not right with me, Spike. I just want to say thank you for giving me the time and space that I need. Back …. home ….everyone wants me to talk about it endlessly, and I couldn’t take it anymore.” He paused, and Spike set his mug down on the table.

Xander stayed in his crouch and rested his forearm on the armrest of Spike’s chair, enjoying the heat from the flames at his back. He closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them again, staring into Spike’s eyes. He seemed to find something he needed there, and he nodded his head slightly and took a quick, shuddering breath.

“After the First went down, I was done with the good fight. I was exhausted and miserable, and I didn’t really care if I lived or died. I was beyond worthless, because I was so messed up. The night I left, I didn’t even tell anyone – not even Willow.” He looked down at his hands, and Spike could see the remorse he felt. “I just left. I did call her later, and tell her I was going away for a while. She was so good about it; said she understood. I went, well, I went everywhere. I bounced around from place to place for a while. I worked a series of shitty jobs, got in a fair amount of trouble.” He grinned at Spike, who returned the grin with a sardonic look. “About five years ago, I wound up in Atlanta. I put myself through tech school. I’m a professional computer geek now – isn’t that funny? I followed in Willow’s footsteps. I found a decent job and I made a few friends. I was in terrible shape physically, so I decided to take up martial arts.” He paused, and closed his eyes again. “That was kind of because of you.” His eyes opened and met Spike’s again. Spike gave him a small smile.

“You always looked so cool when you were kicking the shit out of something – I wondered if I could do that. And you know what? I could.” Xander’s smile was brilliant. On his now thinner face, the smile looked different from the shy half-smiles Spike had seen on him in years past. This smile was full of pride and confidence, and it made Spike take in an unneeded breath. “I never felt so good about myself, less like the Zeppo or the Doughnut-Boy. It was so incredible. I had found a new home, with people who only knew me as Xander, the guy with a good job and a nice place and a cool car who was a dedicated student – not the Slayer’s pet or the demon magnet.” He took another measured breath and let it out slowly.

“And that’s when I met Shari.” Spike could feel the pain as the name slipped past his lips. “She was an instructor, and she whipped my ass. I thought I knew how to fight, and she mopped up the floor with me every time. She was incredibly polite while she did it – she was always teaching. She was always learning, too. She wanted to know everything, whether it was about fighting, or philosophy or meditation or literature or food or wine or … anything.”

“I still can’t believe she married me.” Xander’s voice dropped, and he lowered his head to his forearm, his other hand coming up to twist the two platinum bands. In a voice so low that Spike picked it up only by virtue of his vampire hearing he said, “I still can’t believe she died.”

Spike placed his hand on the back of Xander’s neck and lowered his own forehead to rest against the top of the bowed head before him. As he heard Spike say softly, “Let it out, Xan,” the younger man fell forward on his knees, buried his head in his friend’s lap and cried like the world was ending.



Eventually, his emotions spent, Xander shifted to sit on the floor at Spike’s feet. Spike passed him a napkin from the stack on the table. Xander wiped his eyes and blew his nose, still marveling at the kindness the vampire was showing him. Throughout the long bout of tears, Spike’s hand had never left his hair, stroking him lightly. Spike’s other hand had alternately patted his shoulder or rubbed soothing circles on his back, the vampire murmured comforting nonsense phrases all the while. Xander really didn’t feel like getting up off the floor. He felt secure leaning against Spike’s hard legs, with his cool hand gently carding through his hair while they both stared into the fire. There seemed to be no pressing need for either of them to move.

Xander was awakened by a shake to the shoulder and Spike’s knees shifting slightly under him. He had fallen asleep and instinctively turned and nestled his head into the vampire’s lap again, wrapping his arms around Spike’s legs. Spike was afraid the hard floor and the demon fight were going to combine to cripple Xander by morning, or he would have gladly let the man remain asleep curled around his legs.

Xander groaned and shifted on the floor. Spike gently disengaged the strong arms holding his legs and pulled them both upright. Xander was no more than half awake as the smaller man walked him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The dark, tousled head rested against the equally tousled blond one as they slowly moved through the house. Spike knew dawn was not far away. He walked his charge into the guest bedroom and pulled back the blankets. He sat Xander down on the bed and started manhandling him into a lying-down position. The larger man wouldn’t cooperate. He stopped Spike’s ministrations with a warm hand on his arm. His bleary eyes opened slightly, and he crooked a finger to bring Spike closer. Xander’s fingers closed on the curve his friend’s jaw, and he brought their foreheads to rest against one another. They held the pose silently for a moment, and then Xander’s finger traced Spike’s jaw and then brushed his cheekbone. His lips opened and he whispered, “Thank you, Spike.”

Spike collapsed in his own bed and let out the unneeded breath he’d been holding ever since Xander’s warm fingers had touched his face. It had taken every ounce of control he possessed to break the boy’s touch and put him to bed. He’d wanted desperately to climb in beside him and hold him while he slept.

Spike was tactile by nature – he craved physical affection. Dawn understood it, and tried to accommodate his need – as long as her husband didn’t get too jealous. Spike and Dawn and Sara would curl up on the couch and watch movies, and Dawn was wont to hold his hand anytime she wound up sitting next to him, but for Spike it wasn’t really enough. He appreciated it, but longed for more. He had forgotten that Xander was much the same – drawing comfort from touching and being touched by others. Spike could remember several screaming fights Xander and Anya, the demon bitch, had had about Xander wanting to cuddle instead of supplying her with more orgasms.

Early on, Willow and Xander’s friendship had included physical closeness, but after the incident where Spike had kidnapped them and they’d shared an illicit kiss, and been caught by their respective steadies, that part of their relationship had ended. Spike found himself hoping that Xander’s Shari had fulfilled that need for him. He puzzled a bit and realized that the demon wasn’t howling about this woman. He thought about it some more and realized that, for the demon, the problem was resolved. Shari was dead, therefore another did not claim his boy, and therefore no problem existed. Spike envied the demon its simple outlook sometimes.

Rolling over in his big, empty bed, Spike brought to his nose the hand that had spent hours in Xander’s hair that night. He fell asleep breathing in Xander’s cinnamon and sunshine scent.