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Part six in the Candy Perfume Boys series

BtVS Summer 5/6

Spike/Xander and a bit of Giles

Rated R

Night Is Getting Colder

(Track 6)

Dawn went up to bed and Spike lost himself in the familiar babble of the television. He hated being in this house without distraction. Everything reminded him of Buffy. Everything smelled like Buffy. At least when he was alone he didn’t have to breathe to talk, so he didn’t have to smell. Spike stood and switched off the television as Xander, Willow and Tara returned. “Good night’s patrolling?” he asked, knowing full well by their scent they had not been out and about. 

“Sure!” Willow chirped. “We dusted two of ‘em.” She brandished a stake for emphasis.

“Right. You guys are becoming a regular death squad.” Spike grabbed his coat from the hall tree by the door and turned to Xander who was studying the tips of his boots. “Want an escort home, Wanker? Might be a boring walk otherwise.”

Xander’s head came up and he met the vampire’s eyes at their private code word. The look he saw matched his own, he knew. Despair, loneliness, and emptiness. “Yeah, no reason to be bored. I can list all the reasons I hate you as we walk.”

“That’s the spirit. Good night, ladies.” With a swirl of his coat, Spike was out the door, leaving Xander to shrug at the girls and catch up. He didn’t have to go far, as Spike was leaning against his favorite tree and lighting a cigarette. “My crypt or yours, Pet?”

Xander shrugged. “Mine. That way I won’t have to walk home alone afterwards.”

Spike pushed off the tree and started striding toward Xander’s apartment. “I wouldn’t let you do that. Something might eat you in a way you wouldn’t recover from. Can’t have that.”

Two blocks along, Xander stopped and hung his head. “Wait. We can’t go there. Anya’s waiting for me.” Xander sighed, wanting to connect with the vamp.

Spike looked back at the boy, studying him, taking in his slumped posture. “We don’t have to go anywhere together, Pet. I know things have been rough for everyone since…”

“Since we buried her. Yeah. I… I want to, Spike.” Since Buffy had died, he’d been wanting a connection, wanting to feel alive at the vampire’s touch.

“Okay, I know somewhere.” They walked silently into town where Spike stopped on a corner and easily opened a manhole cover.

“In the sewers? Ew.”

“You’ve been down there before. Besides, it’s a dry tunnel and only for two blocks.” Spike lowered himself onto the rungs and disappeared into the hole. With a sigh, Xander followed, pulling the heavy metal disc into place behind him.

A match flared in the darkness and Spike thrust a candle into his hand. “Something walked off with my lantern,” he muttered. “Come on. Floor’s mostly level. I’ll point out steps.” Xander followed Spike for two twisting blocks before the vamp stopped at a door with a push-button lock on it.

“Where are we going? Fort Knox? Say, this isn’t an old part of the Initiative, is it?”

Spike glared at him. “No. It’s a back door that needs to be kept secure. Spike blocked the lock from view and pushed in five numbers. With a beep, the door swung open and a feeble red light came out. Spike stepped through and paused, listening. He turned and nodded at a small table by the door. “Blow out your candle and put it there, Pet, and come in.” Xander did so. Spike closed the door and a red bulb by it went out. 

He was struck by a familiar scent of herbs, dust, and wax. Spike flicked on a light to reveal shelves of jars and odd boxes stacked around. They were in the storage basement to the Magic Box. “How? Why?”

“Always the scholar, aren’t you? Giles had the door put in as soon as he bought the place. He knew I’d just break the lock, so he told me the combination.” Spike slipped off his jacket and pressed up against Xander. “What’s your pleasure tonight, Pet?” Spike said conversationally. “No boom box, but I could hum you a tune.” Spike leaned in and licked the side of Xander’s neck.

Xander shrugged off the heavy coat he always wore on patrol and let it fall to the ground. “I don’t care, Spike. Just… just make me forget for a while.” He grabbed the vampire by his shirt and drew him in for a bruising kiss. Spike growled and returned his fervor. Both were mourning Buffy and wondering what they had missed in never having been with her.

Xander stopped and pulled away. “Giles.”

“Want me to pretend I’m him, Love? Bit of a kink, but I think I can play the part.”

“What? No! Just…  what if he comes in?”

“There’s no one here but us. I’d hear him if he were.” Spike spelled out clearly. I’ll hear it if anyone comes in upstairs.” He re-captured the boy’s lips. “Make all the noise you want. In fact, I’m gonna make you.”

Thus re-assured, Xander returned to kissing Spike, pulling at his dark clothes.  Soon, they were both naked, clutching and kissing one another. Spike kissed the boy’s neck in long, lingering nips, trailing his lips up and down the pulsing flesh. Xander remembered the last time Spike had lavished attention to his throat and tensed.

Spike felt this and pulled away to look at the boy. Inside, Xander had a loneliness, an emptiness since Buffy had died. On the rare occasions he looked into Spike’s eyes the last couple of months, he could see it there, too. “What’s wrong, Pet?”

“I… last time you…”

“That’s not the game tonight. No biting. Let’s just… touch.” Spike pulled him back into an embrace, holding the boy and running his hand up and down his spine. “I can do things to make you cry out in pleasure, pet.”

Xander nodded, closed his eyes, and trusted the vampire to touch him in ways that would be pleasant. It seemed that every time they got together, even though there weren’t that many of them, Spike found a new way to make him feel good. And that was what he wanted right now.

Upstairs, Giles leaned his head against his arm on the door jam. When he had seen the alarm light switch on, it had worried him. Only himself, Anya and Spike knew the door code. Of course, Buffy had known as well.

He had crept to the door and listened. When he heard Spike, he was relieved. When he heard Xander with him, he was puzzled. He had drawn a breath to shout down when Spike asked Xander what his pleasure was, and that had stopped him in his tracks.  He had no idea these two were involved and apparently had been for some time. The proper thing to do would be to close the door and sit quietly until they left. He should respect his… friends? Acquaintances? Xander was almost a son, but what the hell was Spike, anyway? A moan drifted up from downstairs and a pang of loneliness shot through the Watcher. The two were connecting, distracting one another from the pall of loss which hung over them all.

Hang proper, he couldn’t join them, be he sure as hell could enjoy. Giles quietly undid his trousers and wrapped his hand around his hardening cock. He strained to catch the soft sounds downstairs. When Xander had said his name, he’d frozen, certain of discovery. But then the vampire spoke; assuring the boy he could hear. Why would he say that? The vampire had to know he was here. Had to.

Felling less alone, Giles slid to the floor and worked his cock while listening to the cries and moans from both men down stairs. Giles did not consider himself gay but the passionate sounds from below stirred memories of a wild youth. This was about comfort as much as the two down stairs were.

Spike pressed the boy down onto his spread leather jacket, and dedicated himself to pleasing the him. With hands, lips, tongue, and penis, he touched and stroked. He’d learned a few of the boy’s buttons and set about pressing them all at once.

Xander writhed and moaned beneath him. Before Spike could make the boy come, Xander turned the tables on the vamp, rolling them so he was on top. Duplicating their first encounter, Xander rubbed his hard cock against his partner’s. Then he leaned down and started planting soft kisses on the high cheekbones. “You’re beautiful, Spike,” he breathed. “Like a classical sculpture. Cool and smooth like marble, too.” 

“I bet you say that to all the vamps,” joked Spike, his eyes lidded in pleasure. 

“No other vamps. No other men. Precious few other people.” Their eyes met and something connected. Before their grief could spill, or the beauty of their encounters become sullied with emotion, they closed their eyes and their lips met again. 

Giles reached his release as the cries came to a crescendo below. “Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice, knowing the vampire could hear. Quietly, he closed the door and sat with his back against it.

Silently, the two men pulled on their clothes. Xander found himself staring at the counter where he had proposed to Anya months earlier. “Spike. We… I can’t do this any more. I’m committed to Anya. And being with someone else is just wrong, now.”

Squashing his disappointment, Spike nodded with the air of one who had been expecting such a thing. “It’s okay, Pet. It was fun while it lasted.” Spike shook out his duster and swirled it on. He was surprised each time the boy returned to him, and he really expected each time to be the last, yet it still stung to hear it voiced. The vampire was used to loss. He settled his duster on his shoulders and straighten his back. Who knew? Maybe one day the boy would come again.

Spike took a look around the store room to make sure nothing was out of place. Glancing upwards, he saw a change in the light coming from under the door above that was too faint for human eyes to detect, as if someone was moving on the other side. Without a word, Spike opened the sewer door and escorted Xander home.

Giles watched the basement door light click on, then off as the two left. With a sigh, he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his softening penis and hand clean. Absently, he folded the square of soft linen into a triangle and tucked it in his back pocket, as was his habit when one became too soiled for eyeglass cleaning.

Giles picked himself up off the floor, tucked himself away, and returned to his journals with a sigh. He envied the two their connection. He stared at the blank page before him; grateful to the vampire for sharing, and wishing he could find his own solace somewhere.

Thanks to Donovan for his beta. <scritch, sctitch>

On to (Track 7) Substitute For Love

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