The End Of The Beginning X
Title: The End Of The Beginning
Part: X
Title: Reservations for comfort
Pairing: Xander/Spike (eventually)
Overall Rating: NC17
Chapter Rating: PG13
Beta: The amazing shakatany
Disclaimer: Joss is God
AN: Since I've got the weekend I'll no doubt be writing even faster than I have been. Everyone say thank you to my fantastic beta for keeping up with me and getting these chapters out to you guys.
Previous Chapters
Xander had fallen into a habit rather quickly. Wake, change out the empty blood bag attached to the comatose vampire for a fresh one, work, pick up blood every third day, come home, patrol, goof off with Dawn, clean said comatose vampire, sleep. Rinse, lather, repeat. The only change in the routine was when Angel came by - generally on a Friday or Saturday to give more of his blood. Most of the tasks were done without a worry, but the first time he'd had to strip and sponge bath Spike it'd taken everything he had not to run screaming from the room.
While he might have admitted to Anya that the idea of another guy was interesting, he'd never actually done the whole naked-touching business with anyone of the same sex before. Although, Xander mused as he ran a warm washcloth down a lightly haired leg, he supposed having the object of his naked-touching in a nearly vegetative state had helped.
His hands moved on their own as his mind wandered, so used to the nightly task now that it no longer caused even the lightest of blushes. He'd quickly discovered that talking to Spike while he cleaned him was remarkably soothing. Because of the blond's lack of awareness he was able to make observations that normally he would have kept to himself. About Dawn, about his co-workers , even about the vampire himself.
He had been so caught up in describing the oddity that was Spike's personality shift from William the Bloody to his current state that he almost missed it - fingers rhythmically clenching and unclenching. Startled he dropped the washcloth and looked up into a still face.
"Spike?" He hadn't meant his voice to come out that cautiously hopeful, but in the forty-two times he'd done this, there had been absolutely no movement from the blonde.
If he hadn't been straining so hard to hear something - anything - he would have missed the quiet exhalation, the slight twitch of pale lips. Xander held his breath, waiting for something more, but it seemed that the small effort had exhausted the blond - or he'd been imagining it - because the body under his hands was completely still.
Running a soft towel over pale skin he carefully moved doll-like limbs. When he'd first heard of bedsores he'd been frightened that Spike would wake up, finally well, only to find himself unable to move because of wounds dotting his back, legs and arms. So far it seemed that bedsores were a thing for those with a pulse because there wasn't one new mark on all that smooth skin. Marks yes, but no new ones.
The first time Xander had discovered the slightly raised scars along the vampire's back, shoulders and thighs he'd been curious, tracing them with his fingers until his brain finally processed what they were. The other man knew Spike had grown up in a different time, a different world, but he had never expected such a prominent reminder of that. Though prominent might have been the wrong word. The scars were barely there lines, cobwebs against silk. Still he found his fingers tracing them each night as he cleaned and groomed the vampire - and wasn't it interesting to learn that Spike's facial hair grew ten times slower than his own.
Setting aside his thoughts and the bowl of now tepid water, he redressed the vampire in a pair of old sweats, removing the towels from under him and tucking the blanket back around him. Debating with himself for a moment, he left the bedside lamp on before closing the door softly, suddenly exhausted.
*~*~*
He didn't know what time it was when a shriek woke him. Not bothering to pull a shirt on to go with the boxers he'd slept in, he sprinted towards the sound, snatching up the axe that sat by the bedroom door as he went. Skidding to a stop at the sight of Dawn's beaming face he blinked, sure that generally a scream of terror wasn't followed by happy giggling.
Frowning he tried to make sense of the scene in front of him. Dawn bouncing happily, grinning at him like Christmas had come early and amused blue eyes slowly raking their way down his body - which, he suddenly realized with uncomfortable clarity, was covered only by a pair of boxers. Still, it took his brain a moment to process what those blue eyes meant.
"Spike? Spike! You're awake! And I'm… half naked. Be right back." Dashing back to his bedroom the slightly embarrassed man quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, leaving the axe where he'd snatched it up from.
Returning he found Dawn happily babbling about everything that Spike had missed in his nearly month and a half absence. Sitting in one of the two free chairs - since the teen had perched comfortably on the bed he had his pick- he watched the two; master vampire and teenage girl, discuss the horror that was Danielle Dog-face's new hair cut like it was life or death, and tried to tell himself that the relieved feeling was only because Dawn was no longer worrying.
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