Fic: The most beautiful ugly thing
willowschild asked for Angel, Spike, Xander - falling for each other during the Summer when Buffy was dead. Learning to love through their grief type thing. But, I'd like to see it have a happy ending after Buffy returns. I don't want to see them pushing each other away just because she's back.
What came out was this.
Title: The most beautiful ugly thing
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC 17 for adult themes, sex scenes.
Warnings: Angst. But there's a hopeful ending...
Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money, wish they were and wish I was.
Summary: Spike and Xander find a way to deal with Buffy's death. Only Xander gets more than he bargained for.
______________________________________
Spike on his knees, fists pressing into his sockets so hard that for a moment everyone thinks he’ll push his eyes right through the back of his head. And he isn’t grieving quietly - his whole body shakes with the intensity.
It’s the most beautiful ugly thing Xander has ever seen.
Xander wants to make it better and he wants to make it worse. That’s how it starts.
But today is going to be the day that Xander walks away. He knows they’ve just been using each other. He knows there’s no future in it, knows they’ll only end up hurting more. Because it’s not healthy, this redirection thing. This fucking each other so hard that Spike’s chip fires and fires but he presses harder because Xander wants the pain. If it hurts outside then it won’t hurt on the inside.
Only thing is, now it hurts outside and in. And ain’t that conforming to a stereotype. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if they made it to a bed. Because Spike’s fucked him against tombstones and graves, on a park bench and a children’s swing set. But they’ve never been in a bed, and Xander finds himself wanting it.
So he’s at Spike’s crypt to tell him. That it’s over. It’s not the first time he tries, but he promises himself that it’s the last. Xander is ready to stop hurting, he’s going to tell Spike that it’s time he moved on too. It’s dangerous, this thing between them. Only Xander’s scared because he doesn’t have the words - never has. For all the talking, he never really says much.
Xander looks at the crypt and gets hard - feels like he’s one of those dogs Pavlov trained. Feels like just thinking about Spike gets him ready for it, gets him hot. He bets Spike can smell it.
It’s no surprise when the door is flung open and Xander is pulled inside, pushed against the wall, pressed against stone and already naked skin. Xander means to tell him no, tell him stop. But then Spike’s pulling open his zipper and holding his cock so tight and it hurts hurt hurts hurts and he can’t find the words, can’t remember the speech he rehearsed.
Fuck.
The first time they had sex like this, Xander didn’t show up at work. The scratches along his back went from below his knees and all the way up to the neckline of his shirt. Xander thinks that they could probably get Spike’s fingerprints off the bruises on his ass. Xander loved it then, wanted more. Wanted to know how long his teeth-marks marred the small of Spike’s back, wanted to know if Spike’s tongue would bleed again if he sucked it hard enough.
Only Xander isn’t stupid, at least not as stupid as everyone gives him credit for. He knows this is wrong bad crazy, knows hurting each other isn’t going to bring her back. Worst of all, knows she wouldn’t approve, wouldn’t understand. At least he thinks he knows - sometimes he gets the feeling they didn’t know her as well as they thought.
Xander realises now he made a mistake - coming here, the first hand reminder of how close and how far apart they are. And he’s almost coming and Spike is on his knees and yellow eyes never once look up, focus instead on sucking the life out of him, literally. It’s ironic that Spike is the one on his knees.
And Xander realises why he can’t say no, why he promises and promises but can never follow through.
Hating Spike feels better than loving anyone ever has. Doesn’t notice he’s crying until he tastes the salt in his mouth. But he notices the moment Spike knows, feels the tension, feels the increase in suction, the teeth that scrape along his sensitive underside. Because this isn’t about emotions, him and Spike, this is about hard and fast and right now and maybe never again.
It’s only when he realises that he’ll take whatever Spike dishes out, take it all and beg for more, that he says no. It’s so quiet he thinks maybe Spike won’t hear, almost hopes for it.
The sound of his head smacking against the stone wall is loud only Xander doesn’t hear it, doesn’t notice because everything else is breaking too.
Before he knows it he’s home. He sleeps on the floor because it reminds him of the one time they fell asleep at the crypt two feet shy of the bed.
___________________________________
He doesn’t see Spike for months, though he knows Dawnie still does. He often wants to, but never asks.
Xander leaves his stake at home and walks home after dark. Puts a “Welcome” mat at the front door and keeps his windows open. That’s when he smells the Marlboro smoke, and thinks that maybe it’s no coincidence that he’s still alive.
Smiles for the first time in three months, eight days and fifty-three minutes.
*****
I'm thinking of doing this Spike's perspective, looking at what's going on in his head. Anyone interested?
What came out was this.
Title: The most beautiful ugly thing
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC 17 for adult themes, sex scenes.
Warnings: Angst. But there's a hopeful ending...
Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money, wish they were and wish I was.
Summary: Spike and Xander find a way to deal with Buffy's death. Only Xander gets more than he bargained for.
______________________________________
Spike on his knees, fists pressing into his sockets so hard that for a moment everyone thinks he’ll push his eyes right through the back of his head. And he isn’t grieving quietly - his whole body shakes with the intensity.
It’s the most beautiful ugly thing Xander has ever seen.
Xander wants to make it better and he wants to make it worse. That’s how it starts.
But today is going to be the day that Xander walks away. He knows they’ve just been using each other. He knows there’s no future in it, knows they’ll only end up hurting more. Because it’s not healthy, this redirection thing. This fucking each other so hard that Spike’s chip fires and fires but he presses harder because Xander wants the pain. If it hurts outside then it won’t hurt on the inside.
Only thing is, now it hurts outside and in. And ain’t that conforming to a stereotype. Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if they made it to a bed. Because Spike’s fucked him against tombstones and graves, on a park bench and a children’s swing set. But they’ve never been in a bed, and Xander finds himself wanting it.
So he’s at Spike’s crypt to tell him. That it’s over. It’s not the first time he tries, but he promises himself that it’s the last. Xander is ready to stop hurting, he’s going to tell Spike that it’s time he moved on too. It’s dangerous, this thing between them. Only Xander’s scared because he doesn’t have the words - never has. For all the talking, he never really says much.
Xander looks at the crypt and gets hard - feels like he’s one of those dogs Pavlov trained. Feels like just thinking about Spike gets him ready for it, gets him hot. He bets Spike can smell it.
It’s no surprise when the door is flung open and Xander is pulled inside, pushed against the wall, pressed against stone and already naked skin. Xander means to tell him no, tell him stop. But then Spike’s pulling open his zipper and holding his cock so tight and it hurts hurt hurts hurts and he can’t find the words, can’t remember the speech he rehearsed.
Fuck.
The first time they had sex like this, Xander didn’t show up at work. The scratches along his back went from below his knees and all the way up to the neckline of his shirt. Xander thinks that they could probably get Spike’s fingerprints off the bruises on his ass. Xander loved it then, wanted more. Wanted to know how long his teeth-marks marred the small of Spike’s back, wanted to know if Spike’s tongue would bleed again if he sucked it hard enough.
Only Xander isn’t stupid, at least not as stupid as everyone gives him credit for. He knows this is wrong bad crazy, knows hurting each other isn’t going to bring her back. Worst of all, knows she wouldn’t approve, wouldn’t understand. At least he thinks he knows - sometimes he gets the feeling they didn’t know her as well as they thought.
Xander realises now he made a mistake - coming here, the first hand reminder of how close and how far apart they are. And he’s almost coming and Spike is on his knees and yellow eyes never once look up, focus instead on sucking the life out of him, literally. It’s ironic that Spike is the one on his knees.
And Xander realises why he can’t say no, why he promises and promises but can never follow through.
Hating Spike feels better than loving anyone ever has. Doesn’t notice he’s crying until he tastes the salt in his mouth. But he notices the moment Spike knows, feels the tension, feels the increase in suction, the teeth that scrape along his sensitive underside. Because this isn’t about emotions, him and Spike, this is about hard and fast and right now and maybe never again.
It’s only when he realises that he’ll take whatever Spike dishes out, take it all and beg for more, that he says no. It’s so quiet he thinks maybe Spike won’t hear, almost hopes for it.
The sound of his head smacking against the stone wall is loud only Xander doesn’t hear it, doesn’t notice because everything else is breaking too.
Before he knows it he’s home. He sleeps on the floor because it reminds him of the one time they fell asleep at the crypt two feet shy of the bed.
___________________________________
He doesn’t see Spike for months, though he knows Dawnie still does. He often wants to, but never asks.
Xander leaves his stake at home and walks home after dark. Puts a “Welcome” mat at the front door and keeps his windows open. That’s when he smells the Marlboro smoke, and thinks that maybe it’s no coincidence that he’s still alive.
Smiles for the first time in three months, eight days and fifty-three minutes.
*****
I'm thinking of doing this Spike's perspective, looking at what's going on in his head. Anyone interested?