fic: Sugar and Spike and Everything Nice; that’s what little boys are made of. (10/?)
Title: Sugar and Spike and Everything Nice; that’s what little boys are made of.
Rating: R
Genre: Romance, Comedy
Pairing: Buffy/Spike from BtVS
Summary: In an attempt to lend a helping hand, a spell by Willow goes awry and leaves Buffy with an unexpected, but quite adorable handful.
For the wonderful and talented badbetsy on her birthday. Have a beautiful day dearest :)
Disclaimer: All publically recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Ten.
“Spike, sweetie.” Buffy caught up to the teen as he strolled into the kitchen. “Pretty please, could you... put a shirt on?”
“Can’t keep your eyes of my hot bod?”
“It’s got nothing to do with me!” Buffy explained, if not a little defensively. ”Dawn, on the other hand...”
Spike beamed, tucking his thumbs in his belt hoops and puffing his chest out proudly.
“What can I say, luv? Nibblet’s got exceptional taste.”
“Spike, please.” She heaved a sigh and pulled him further into the kitchen. “I’m being serious. Look, you know how much I trust you with her, right? She’s really struggling in school right now and you know as well as I do, Dawn’s a little...enamoured with you. And you distracting her with your...” Buffy waved her hand vaguely in the direction of his defined abdomen and sharp hipbones. “...and your state of undress is the last thing she needs right now.”
Suddenly sincere, the teen tilted his head in thought and nodded. “Alright, Buff. You win.” Just as he turned away to fetch himself a shirt, Buffy saw his eyes sparkle with mischief. He dug his hands into his pockets and looked at her through his eyelashes. “Anyway,” he murmured. “You know how I like my women.” He took a sly step closer, his voice deepening, “Shorter.”
“H-hey! Shorter?!” She raised a hand to slap his arm, only to have him snatch her wrist and tug her closer. With his other hand he pushed a stray golden lock behind her ear.
“Blonder.” He looked down at the wrist he held, eyes glazed over with a lustful haze. “Stronger, older.”
She frowned at his last choice and pulled herself away. “Shirt, Spike! On! Now.”
~
She waited for him as he went down into the basement to retrieve a shirt from the pile of freshly laundered clothing. He pulled it on and popped the collar, looking at her as if to ask if she was satisfied. Pursing her lips, Buffy pointed to his exposed chest. “Buttons.”
He smirked in reply. “Not gonna help me?”
“Are you three years old?” She sighed in resign as his eyes continued to smoulder at her. “Fine.” Grabbing a handful of shirt in each hand she tugged him, none too gently towards her.
“Whoa! Easy on the goods there, luv.”
Exasperated, Buffy shook her head. “Honestly, Spike.”
“Sorry, Buffy,” he chuckled. “You know I don’t mean to brass you off. I just-I remember how you used to help me get dressed when I was little.”
Suddenly hopeful, she looked up from the button her frustrated fingers were battling with. “You do?”
He smiled. “Mm-hmm.”
He really was handsome.
“What -what do you remember?” She returned her attentions to his shirt, her touch much softer.
“Nothing specific,” he shrugged. “I just remember watching you. I liked that. You were always smiling and...gentle. And when you finished, you’d kiss my forehead. I remember that.”
She smoothed down the lapels of his shirt and brushed off his shoulders, biting her lip as she unsuccessfully tried to hide a bashful smile. “Well, you don’t need me anymore, do you? Being all grown up.”
He took both her hands, flashing her a flirtatious glance. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, luv. I’ll always-”
“I feel like getting groovy tonight!” Dawn bustled loudly into the kitchen and sashayed up to the blonde duo. “Spike! Wanna come with me to the Bronze?”
Buffy had since snatched her hands back from him and turned away to busy herself at the kitchen counter, trying to banish her strawberry blush. This just couldn’t keep happening! One minute she’d be scolding him for his inappropriateness, being the proper, over-bearing parent she’d always feared she’d become (if she was fortunate enough to ever be a parent) and the next! Her knees would turn buttery; she’d be grinning like an idiot and giggling like a school-girl! This just wouldn’t do.
But then he did that thing with his eyes, he really did look awfully handsome.
“Oh, you know I’m not much of a dancer, little bit.”
She cleared her throat, turning to her sister. “Dawn, don’t you have work to do? Besides, we just there the other night, remember?”
“I’ve done it all!”
Buffy watched her sibling carefully as she twirled a long, brown curl around her finger and smiled coyly at the teenage vamp. She was flirting with him!
“And I wasn’t asking you...old lady. I was asking Spike. And you don’t have to dance; we could just...get a drink...or three.”
A deep chuckle rumbled through Spike’s chest and he bit his lip adorably. “Sweet bit, you can’t even drink. You’re not legal.”
And he was calling her pet names! Well, she already knew that...but they were really cute ones! He never called her ‘sweet bit’!
“Fine.” Dawn heaved a sigh and crossed her arms, that famous Summers’ pout in full force. “I’ll just go by myself. And find guys who do want to dance with me.”
Suddenly Spike seemed to grow taller, his expression darkening. “You bloody well, will not.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Mister...’Bloody well, will not’!” She poked her tongue out at him to add effect.
He deflated. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go with you.”
“Yay!” Buffy jumped slightly at her sister’s shriek. “You’re the best, Spike!”
She didn’t recognise the pang of emotion which stabbed at her gut as she watched Dawn plant a loud kiss on one of his cheekbones and saw him hug her waist so tightly that her body lifted off the ground. Spike had never held her like that; his touches had always been lighter, teasing almost. Gentle. Guarded?
No.
Sensual.
That was the word.
~
So here they were again. Here she was again. But this time, there wasn’t a young man pining for her attention sitting beside her. This time she sat off to the side watching as her little sister bounced to the beat with a teenage vampire moving awkwardly beside her, warily eyeing the other gyrating occupants of the dance floor. He seemed particularly interested in one particular couple who’d pressed their pelvises so close together, it was a wonder they could move at all. Spike watched on with a smirk as he saw a hand rove down the girl’s bare back to rest on her bottom. When he searched for her out at the tables, she could only duck her head to hide her blush when he sent a blatant leer in her direction.
There was a sudden squeal and Buffy shot her head up to see Spike holding her sister in a ballroom style backwards dip, one hand supporting her lower back and Dawn’s hair a tumbling cascade of brunette waves. Oh God. He was looking at her again and his eyes were all smoky and...sexy.
She grabbed for her drink and took a swig far too big for her alcohol sensitive tastebuds to handle.
Gah.
~
“Come on, luv. Dance with me?” Buffy looked up in surprise to see Spike offering her his hand. “Just like last time.”
“Where-where’s Dawn?”
“Little girl’s room.” He tilted his head, indicating to the dance floor. “Dance with me, Buffy?”
At first she was too stunned, too nervous. She kept her body rigid, her hands resting on his shoulders. In his own true style, Spike quickly noticed her hesitation and took her breath away with that handsome smile. He touched one of her elbows, urging her hands around his neck. She smiled back bashfully, stepping a bit closer as his touch on her shoulder-blades firmed. Gradually she let the beat take over; she let her eyes fall shut and rested her head on his shoulder. She thought she’d imagined it when he murmured her name against her temple.
“Buffy.”
She felt the hand which rested on her scapula shift downwards, another hand she felt touch her chin coaxing her head upwards. She felt his breath across her cheek and her eyelashes fluttered. As she regained her focus, she almost gasped at the intense blue of his eyes. He moved closer and closer, his lips were almost on hers.
He wanted her; really wanted her. And it took her breath away.
Almost.
“Spike,” she whispered. “We-we shouldn’t.”
“Why not, luv?”
That was an extremely good question. But she had reasons. Lots of reasons.
...what were they again?
“I’m-I’m a lot older than you.”
“Not a lot, just a bit. Doesn’t matter. I have...” He tongue snuck out to wet his lips, he touched his forehead to hers. “...I have feelings for you, Buffy. Always have. And I know you have feelings for me too.”
She shook her head uncertainly. “N-no.”
“Oh? Then why are you letting me do this?”
The hand which touched her cheek ventured down to her neck, two finger tips just brushing her skin, moving down her collarbone and dangerously close to the dip of her low cut singlet top. Her eyelashes fluttered in desire. His touch ignited a trail of blazing fire right down to her toes.
“Spike, please. Don’t.”
Their lips brushed so lightly. It was barely even a touch. She was so light-headed it was almost painful.
“Please, Buffy. Let me have...one...”
She saw his jaw clench in restraint.
“...one?”
“Just one,” he breathed. “Please, Buffy. Let me...let me kiss you. Say yes, please.”
He was asking her permission? God. Could this have gotten any harder?
“I...”
“Buffy, sweetheart. Kiss me.”
Say no. Don’t say yes. Say no.
Don’t. No.
He let out the most heartbreaking sound she’d ever heard.
Why had he made that sound?
His bottom lip had been captured between hers.
Oh.
To be continued...
Rating: R
Genre: Romance, Comedy
Pairing: Buffy/Spike from BtVS
Summary: In an attempt to lend a helping hand, a spell by Willow goes awry and leaves Buffy with an unexpected, but quite adorable handful.
For the wonderful and talented badbetsy on her birthday. Have a beautiful day dearest :)
Disclaimer: All publically recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter Ten.
“Spike, sweetie.” Buffy caught up to the teen as he strolled into the kitchen. “Pretty please, could you... put a shirt on?”
“Can’t keep your eyes of my hot bod?”
“It’s got nothing to do with me!” Buffy explained, if not a little defensively. ”Dawn, on the other hand...”
Spike beamed, tucking his thumbs in his belt hoops and puffing his chest out proudly.
“What can I say, luv? Nibblet’s got exceptional taste.”
“Spike, please.” She heaved a sigh and pulled him further into the kitchen. “I’m being serious. Look, you know how much I trust you with her, right? She’s really struggling in school right now and you know as well as I do, Dawn’s a little...enamoured with you. And you distracting her with your...” Buffy waved her hand vaguely in the direction of his defined abdomen and sharp hipbones. “...and your state of undress is the last thing she needs right now.”
Suddenly sincere, the teen tilted his head in thought and nodded. “Alright, Buff. You win.” Just as he turned away to fetch himself a shirt, Buffy saw his eyes sparkle with mischief. He dug his hands into his pockets and looked at her through his eyelashes. “Anyway,” he murmured. “You know how I like my women.” He took a sly step closer, his voice deepening, “Shorter.”
“H-hey! Shorter?!” She raised a hand to slap his arm, only to have him snatch her wrist and tug her closer. With his other hand he pushed a stray golden lock behind her ear.
“Blonder.” He looked down at the wrist he held, eyes glazed over with a lustful haze. “Stronger, older.”
She frowned at his last choice and pulled herself away. “Shirt, Spike! On! Now.”
~
She waited for him as he went down into the basement to retrieve a shirt from the pile of freshly laundered clothing. He pulled it on and popped the collar, looking at her as if to ask if she was satisfied. Pursing her lips, Buffy pointed to his exposed chest. “Buttons.”
He smirked in reply. “Not gonna help me?”
“Are you three years old?” She sighed in resign as his eyes continued to smoulder at her. “Fine.” Grabbing a handful of shirt in each hand she tugged him, none too gently towards her.
“Whoa! Easy on the goods there, luv.”
Exasperated, Buffy shook her head. “Honestly, Spike.”
“Sorry, Buffy,” he chuckled. “You know I don’t mean to brass you off. I just-I remember how you used to help me get dressed when I was little.”
Suddenly hopeful, she looked up from the button her frustrated fingers were battling with. “You do?”
He smiled. “Mm-hmm.”
He really was handsome.
“What -what do you remember?” She returned her attentions to his shirt, her touch much softer.
“Nothing specific,” he shrugged. “I just remember watching you. I liked that. You were always smiling and...gentle. And when you finished, you’d kiss my forehead. I remember that.”
She smoothed down the lapels of his shirt and brushed off his shoulders, biting her lip as she unsuccessfully tried to hide a bashful smile. “Well, you don’t need me anymore, do you? Being all grown up.”
He took both her hands, flashing her a flirtatious glance. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, luv. I’ll always-”
“I feel like getting groovy tonight!” Dawn bustled loudly into the kitchen and sashayed up to the blonde duo. “Spike! Wanna come with me to the Bronze?”
Buffy had since snatched her hands back from him and turned away to busy herself at the kitchen counter, trying to banish her strawberry blush. This just couldn’t keep happening! One minute she’d be scolding him for his inappropriateness, being the proper, over-bearing parent she’d always feared she’d become (if she was fortunate enough to ever be a parent) and the next! Her knees would turn buttery; she’d be grinning like an idiot and giggling like a school-girl! This just wouldn’t do.
But then he did that thing with his eyes, he really did look awfully handsome.
“Oh, you know I’m not much of a dancer, little bit.”
She cleared her throat, turning to her sister. “Dawn, don’t you have work to do? Besides, we just there the other night, remember?”
“I’ve done it all!”
Buffy watched her sibling carefully as she twirled a long, brown curl around her finger and smiled coyly at the teenage vamp. She was flirting with him!
“And I wasn’t asking you...old lady. I was asking Spike. And you don’t have to dance; we could just...get a drink...or three.”
A deep chuckle rumbled through Spike’s chest and he bit his lip adorably. “Sweet bit, you can’t even drink. You’re not legal.”
And he was calling her pet names! Well, she already knew that...but they were really cute ones! He never called her ‘sweet bit’!
“Fine.” Dawn heaved a sigh and crossed her arms, that famous Summers’ pout in full force. “I’ll just go by myself. And find guys who do want to dance with me.”
Suddenly Spike seemed to grow taller, his expression darkening. “You bloody well, will not.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Mister...’Bloody well, will not’!” She poked her tongue out at him to add effect.
He deflated. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go with you.”
“Yay!” Buffy jumped slightly at her sister’s shriek. “You’re the best, Spike!”
She didn’t recognise the pang of emotion which stabbed at her gut as she watched Dawn plant a loud kiss on one of his cheekbones and saw him hug her waist so tightly that her body lifted off the ground. Spike had never held her like that; his touches had always been lighter, teasing almost. Gentle. Guarded?
No.
Sensual.
That was the word.
~
So here they were again. Here she was again. But this time, there wasn’t a young man pining for her attention sitting beside her. This time she sat off to the side watching as her little sister bounced to the beat with a teenage vampire moving awkwardly beside her, warily eyeing the other gyrating occupants of the dance floor. He seemed particularly interested in one particular couple who’d pressed their pelvises so close together, it was a wonder they could move at all. Spike watched on with a smirk as he saw a hand rove down the girl’s bare back to rest on her bottom. When he searched for her out at the tables, she could only duck her head to hide her blush when he sent a blatant leer in her direction.
There was a sudden squeal and Buffy shot her head up to see Spike holding her sister in a ballroom style backwards dip, one hand supporting her lower back and Dawn’s hair a tumbling cascade of brunette waves. Oh God. He was looking at her again and his eyes were all smoky and...sexy.
She grabbed for her drink and took a swig far too big for her alcohol sensitive tastebuds to handle.
Gah.
~
“Come on, luv. Dance with me?” Buffy looked up in surprise to see Spike offering her his hand. “Just like last time.”
“Where-where’s Dawn?”
“Little girl’s room.” He tilted his head, indicating to the dance floor. “Dance with me, Buffy?”
At first she was too stunned, too nervous. She kept her body rigid, her hands resting on his shoulders. In his own true style, Spike quickly noticed her hesitation and took her breath away with that handsome smile. He touched one of her elbows, urging her hands around his neck. She smiled back bashfully, stepping a bit closer as his touch on her shoulder-blades firmed. Gradually she let the beat take over; she let her eyes fall shut and rested her head on his shoulder. She thought she’d imagined it when he murmured her name against her temple.
“Buffy.”
She felt the hand which rested on her scapula shift downwards, another hand she felt touch her chin coaxing her head upwards. She felt his breath across her cheek and her eyelashes fluttered. As she regained her focus, she almost gasped at the intense blue of his eyes. He moved closer and closer, his lips were almost on hers.
He wanted her; really wanted her. And it took her breath away.
Almost.
“Spike,” she whispered. “We-we shouldn’t.”
“Why not, luv?”
That was an extremely good question. But she had reasons. Lots of reasons.
...what were they again?
“I’m-I’m a lot older than you.”
“Not a lot, just a bit. Doesn’t matter. I have...” He tongue snuck out to wet his lips, he touched his forehead to hers. “...I have feelings for you, Buffy. Always have. And I know you have feelings for me too.”
She shook her head uncertainly. “N-no.”
“Oh? Then why are you letting me do this?”
The hand which touched her cheek ventured down to her neck, two finger tips just brushing her skin, moving down her collarbone and dangerously close to the dip of her low cut singlet top. Her eyelashes fluttered in desire. His touch ignited a trail of blazing fire right down to her toes.
“Spike, please. Don’t.”
Their lips brushed so lightly. It was barely even a touch. She was so light-headed it was almost painful.
“Please, Buffy. Let me have...one...”
She saw his jaw clench in restraint.
“...one?”
“Just one,” he breathed. “Please, Buffy. Let me...let me kiss you. Say yes, please.”
He was asking her permission? God. Could this have gotten any harder?
“I...”
“Buffy, sweetheart. Kiss me.”
Say no. Don’t say yes. Say no.
Don’t. No.
He let out the most heartbreaking sound she’d ever heard.
Why had he made that sound?
His bottom lip had been captured between hers.
Oh.
To be continued...