A/N: This is for Trixx, for her Birthday. Hope you like it.



It was ridiculous really. A vampire of his age and stature getting all mushy over a mortal. He would have been embarrassed if he wasn't so totally head over heels in love with the boy. His boy. Xander.

That was why he was sitting on the floor of the bedroom watching him sleep, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath, listening to the soft steady thump of his heart beating in rhythm.

If he were an artist like Angelus he would draw him, he would fill page after page with his likeness, never doing justice to the true beauty that was his love. He would paint portraits so fine that they could hang in any gallery world-wide. He wasn't an artist though, just a poet.

If he were a decent poet he would fill volumes of prose on the shade of his eyes, the wave of his hair, the warmth of his smile. But he wasn't a decent poet, he was a 'bloody awful' poet, and a love-sick fool. He was loves-bitch, he knew it, he accepted it, and he lived with the consequences.

No one had ever understood the depths of his emotions, for a vampire these things were unprecedented. Love was something that was afforded to humans, not demons. Many times in his existence, Spike wished that he could be more like other vampires, more demonic in nature. It was always his down-fall.

It was love that caused him to spend a century with an insane woman who would never love him back, not the way he needed her to. It was love that caused him to chase after the slayer like a love-sick pup. It was love that had led him to following this boy around at night. To protect him, keep him safe, watch over him as he slept.

Xander sighed in his sleep and turned toward the vampire who was still keeping vigil over him. He had a goofy smile on his face even in his sleep. It made the vampire smile in return. Spike felt his heart swell at the depth of emotion he felt for this mortal. It wasn't natural, loving a human. It went against his entire nature. You weren't supposed to love your food. Well, unless you were some sort of sick-o with a web site and a farm.... but he didn't want to think about that. Not when his boy was looking so soft and kissable.

He leaned in toward the sleeping boy and ghosted a kiss across his lips. It was just the briefest touch, but it was amazing. It was everything he had wanted in life. He licked his lips, he tasted sunshine, chocolate and sawdust. All the things he knew that surrounded his boy. It was like tasting life, love, happiness.

Spike yearned to just crawl into that bed, hold Xander close to him and tell him how much he loved him, how much he craved him, how miserable he was without him. It was a pipe dream, never to come to fruition. Xander hated him, hated all demons actually, and besides that he was straight as they come. It didn't stop Spike from wishing, hoping, longing for more. To be loved in return, truly loved, for once in his existence.

The dawn was coming and so Spike stood reluctantly and made his way to the bedroom door. He turned back, and knowing full well that if he got caught he would never be allowed back in Xanders home, gently pecked the boy on the lips again before leaving.

He was surprised to see brown eyes open in sleepy wonderment, fixing him with a questioning look. He smiled sheepishly and turned to go. He felt a hand on his wrist and was gently tugged back.

"Stay?"

Spike nodded and removed his coat. Confusion warred with hope and he decided to just give in. He toed off his boots and got into bed beside the still sleepy young man. He smiled when warm strong arms embraced him and a gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek.

He didn't care if this were the last moment he would ever have in his life. He was happy, he was where he most wanted to be. If this made him mushy, or soft, he didn't care. This was bliss. This was what he thought he'd never have. He welcomed his softness, his humanity. It had given him this, given him this one moment of happiness in the arms of his beloved. It had given him hope that he might be loved in return.