A Road Covered With Blood
Jul. 18th, 2007 11:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Xander/Spike
Rating: NC-17 overall
A/N: Written for thefangfetish/darker_spike Alternate Realities/Dimensions challenge. X-posted to darker_spike for challenge reasons, posted here just because :)
A/N 2: Yeah, this was supposed to be "Harsh Light of Day" but it kinda turned into something else....
The first thing Xander noticed was the stillness. There was nothing. No movement, not a sound. Everything within him was completely, utterly silent.
Galloping right behind that revelation was the fact that he had a dick in his mouth. Oddly, the lack of heartbeat bothered him more. Maybe he was just worn out from slipping and sliding through reality, or maybe his not-so-secret experimentation had given him a taste for man bits.
Shrugging, Xander put his tongue to good use. Whoever his partner was, they certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. His cheeks ballooned out as the long thick flesh pushed deeper inside him.
“Xan-der,” his partner gasped. “Bloody fuck, luv...gonna…”
That was all the warning he got before his mouth began to fill with thick sticky saltiness. As Xander gulped frantically, he was mentally kicking himself. You tease one vamp and end up changing reality. You maybe couldn’t have learned not to fuck up the first time around?
As Spike’s frantic thrusting slowed and finally stopped, Xander just sat there. He absent-mindedly nursed on the organ in mouth while trying to take stock of his situation. There was a new presence in his head, and he was forced to conclude it was his demon.
Which wasn’t a real shock, seeing as how he was dead and still sucking cock. The shock was that it wasn’t a growling hissing monster. After seeing and dusting so many mindless vamps, he’d always assumed the demon was itself mindless.
But the presence in his head was…alive. That was the only way to describe it, really. It talked to him, whispering softly of its depraved desires. Unlike the hyena that simply existed as a part of him, the demon was almost tangible. It existed apart from him before and still. He could feel it tugging at him, gently leading him towards the mayhem that was its sole reason for being.
Spike was petting him now, fingers running softly through his hair. Those fingers were gentle, almost affectionate. The hands that picked him up and moved him into Spike’s lap were gentle, cradling him close. The whispered words that urged him to bite down and drink were gentle, full of good humor and acceptance.
Holy shit, Xander thought as blood trickled into his mouth, Spike loves me. Or this me, the Xander demon me, which is close enough to me in a not me way.
He couldn’t stop the demon from pushing forth to claim the blood it craved, so he just rode it out. What would have been repulsive as a human was satisfying to this still cool body. The blood spoke to the demon, comforted it with its familiarity. He could feel it, the demon and its needs, its desires. But they existed apart from him, as something he saw but did not participate in. He figured it was because he didn’t belong here, in this body. He was a hitchhiker in his own undead body. Man, the things he'd do to get good party conversation…
“So,” Spike said lazily. “You gonna tell me who you are or should I just guess?”
This was so close to what Spike had said to him before, and he was still lost to the sensuality of the demon’s responses. It took him a minute to understand that Spike, this Spike, knew he wasn’t…dead or demonic or whatever. Knew it and still allowed him to slice through his flesh with razor-sharp fangs.
‘Huh. Either Spike is much stupider than I ever possibly dreamed or he’s got the biggest set of balls on the planet. Possibly both.’
“I’m Xander,” he finally replied, pulling back from his position at Spike’s throat.
“Is that a fact,” Spike answered.
“Yep,” Xander told him. “This is Xander’s body and I’m Xander.”
Spike stared at him skeptically for a moment, and then lifted one eyebrow. It was so essentially Spike that Xander almost laughed. Since not all of his brain cells had been damaged, he managed to contain himself.
“Notice you said this was Xander’s body and not yours,” Spike murmured, running a finger down his cheek.
“Yeah, well…” Xander sighed. “I am Xander and this is Xander’s body. We just aren’t the same Xander.”
Spike smiled in satisfaction at that answer, ruffling Xander’s hair. Xander could only stare at him in confusion. What the hell did that mean? Did it mean something?
He could hear the demon still; its words running through him like an icy stream. It wasn’t fighting him, it just wanted him to do its bidding. The demon craved, and at least half of those cravings revolved around the man…vampire in front of him.
“You’re his Sire,” Xander said aloud in wonder. “You picked him for eternity. When the hell did that happen?”
“Not too long after Dru died,” Spike answered, still stroking his face. “Blew into town lookin’ to save her. Never did find the cure for what that mob did to her. Found you, though. Well, him.”
“Let me guess, he was dancing at the Bronze?”
“Yeah, him and his little redheaded girl,” Spike smiled beatifically, a smile that belonged to creatures both purer and more wicked than Spike could ever claim to be. “Right tasty pair they are.”
“So, you took Willow too,” Xander said, not a hint of doubt in his mind.
Spike sighed, a frown replacing that beautiful smile. “Took her first, actually. That girl had a darkness in her you could sense from a mile off. Only turned him ‘cause she bloody whinged about for weeks.”
Xander couldn’t even muster a bit of surprise. He’d been second place, second choice so often. It was what it was and he stopped being hurt by it.
Spike growled, dragging Xander close to him and claiming his lips for a punishing kiss. Xander submitted to it, the demon teasing the edges of his consciousness with gleeful punishing urgency. This mouth made him, and he wanted it on him, in him, taking him again and again and…
The sound of Spike’s voice snapped him from his mental free fall.
“You might not be him, but you’ve got the same damn issue,” the vampire snarled. “He’s too old to need my blood, but I give it anyways. Keeps him quiet, reminds him he’s mine.”
Mine. The word thrummed and danced in the air. In the truest sense, this Xander did belong to Spike. He was entirely Spike’s creation, the demon inside him springing from the blood that even now shone like rubies on Spike’s pale skin.
“Wait a minute,” Xander shook his head. “Where’s Buffy?”
Spike shot him a quizzical look, and answered, “The Slayer? Far as I know, she’s set up shop in Cleveland. Why?”
Xander slapped his forehead into his palm. This wasn’t his fuck-up. Well, maybe not. Probably not, because he hadn’t cheated on Cordelia so there should have been no reason for her to use the dreaded W word.
Xander stood, reluctantly leaving Spike’s arms. This need to be close to Spike was only slightly more disturbing than having to call up his ex-vengeance demon girlfriend to fix this. Well, she probably wasn’t ex-vengeance here. Oh, bad, bad, bad. He was gonna have to de-demon Anya and she was gonna be righteously pissed.
“Anyanka, get your ass down here now!” Xander wasn’t sure that yelling would bring a vengeance demon a-running, but it was the best idea he had at the moment.
He waited, hoping to hear the little pop that accompanied her teleport-y act. And he waited some more. Finally, he shook his head. Clearly, yelling was not the correct method of summoning a vengeance demon.
Then he heard it. The soft swooshing sounds that was as familiar to him as his vanished heartbeat. Someone was staking vamps close by and at a pretty quick clip.
Spike had given up all pretense at humanity, his demon face to the fore. A series of low snarls and hisses escaped his mouth, and he stood. Xander could only stare as the Big Bad he remembered began to suit up.
The duster had just finished swirling around Spike’s calves when the door flew in, splintering under the force of the blow. As the dust and debris settled, Xander looked straight at the possessor of said force. The face that stared back at him was alien, for all that it belonged to Buffy.
She looked thinner, harder, and darker than he’d ever seen her. Her face carried a silvery scar that split her lip. His Buffy, his shining golden girl, was drab.
She stood there for a minute as he stared at her. Her stake was raised high, but she simply stood there. Xander wondered what she was waiting for, and he said the only thing he could think of.
“Buffy, what the hell happened to you?”
She laughed at that, and her laughed belonged to her and not to the scarred woman standing in front of him. It was the laugh of a million nights at the Bronze, and post-Slaying movie fests. It was a little piece of his world and he let it shower down on him, grateful to have it.
“Xander,” she smiled. “You’re you and not all…”
He nodded and said, “Long story, Buffster, but yeah. I’m not the Xander that belongs here.”
She bit her lip, and then grimaced. With a soft sigh, she lowered her stake. Spike started to laugh, first lightly but it progressed until the sound filled the little room.
“Cocked up, did you Slayer? I’m betting you made a wish,” Spike said, between desperate chuckles.
“How did you know?” Buffy demanded. “Xander, how did he know?”
Spike answered her question before Xander could form the words. “Boy here called for Anyanka. The lady’s a vengeance demon, specializing in scorned women if I recall rightly. Stands to reason that you know him and he knows you, though I’d know if you two’d ever met. So, what did you wish for, Slayer?”
Buffy met Xander’s eyes guiltily. “I wished I’d never come to Sunnydale.”
Xander groaned. Apparently, some things were just meant to be and this had to be one of them. No freak Hellmouth coincidence was enough to explain the similarity in the wishing.
“Xander, I…” Buffy stopped and took a deep breath. “Angel was leaving. We…it hurt so bad, to be around each other. We were supposed to stop the Mayor and then he was going to leave. I just…I was thinking it would be better if we’d never met at all and this girl was there and I was crying and she asked me…”
“What you wish would have happened,” Xander finished for her, intimately acquainted with Anya’s former life. “So you said it and she did it. I understand, believe me.”
“Do you…” Buffy stared at him forlornly. “Do you know how to fix it?”
“Only way to take back the wish is to get rid of the demon’s power,” Spike told her, his voice a bit too chipper. “Good luck on that. Vengeance demons’ got a bit of the mojo and some strength besides.”
“I’m not sure how to find her,” Xander confessed. “I tried yelling, but clearly that was both ineffective and slightly boneheaded.”
“Well, yeah,” Spike scoffed. “Gotta use a summoning charm to get your girl to show up where you want her.”
“Ooh, really?” Buffy was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “So we just find the charm and she’ll show? Thanks!”
“Bugger,” Spike cursed. “Tell me I did not just give good advice to the Slayer.”
Xander moved closer to Spike and gave in to the need, Stroking Spike’s face, he put his face in the crook of Spike’s neck and just inhaled. As he nuzzled, he told the blonde demon, “Don’t worry. If this works, you’ll never remember it.”
“Oh, that’s all right then,” Spike told him softly, slightly mollified. “Gonna miss my boy, though.”
“Nah,” Xander reassured him. “You won’t remember him, either.”
Spike only stared at him, eyes widening. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The whirlwind began to tug at Xander and as he was pulled from yet another body, he heard Spike’s voice.
“No, Xander…I remember you. Sorry, luv, so sorry…”
Rating: NC-17 overall
A/N: Written for the
fangfetish/darker_spike Alternate Realities/Dimensions challenge. X-posted to darker_spike for challenge reasons, posted here just because :)A/N 2: Yeah, this was supposed to be "Harsh Light of Day" but it kinda turned into something else....
The first thing Xander noticed was the stillness. There was nothing. No movement, not a sound. Everything within him was completely, utterly silent.
Galloping right behind that revelation was the fact that he had a dick in his mouth. Oddly, the lack of heartbeat bothered him more. Maybe he was just worn out from slipping and sliding through reality, or maybe his not-so-secret experimentation had given him a taste for man bits.
Shrugging, Xander put his tongue to good use. Whoever his partner was, they certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. His cheeks ballooned out as the long thick flesh pushed deeper inside him.
“Xan-der,” his partner gasped. “Bloody fuck, luv...gonna…”
That was all the warning he got before his mouth began to fill with thick sticky saltiness. As Xander gulped frantically, he was mentally kicking himself. You tease one vamp and end up changing reality. You maybe couldn’t have learned not to fuck up the first time around?
As Spike’s frantic thrusting slowed and finally stopped, Xander just sat there. He absent-mindedly nursed on the organ in mouth while trying to take stock of his situation. There was a new presence in his head, and he was forced to conclude it was his demon.
Which wasn’t a real shock, seeing as how he was dead and still sucking cock. The shock was that it wasn’t a growling hissing monster. After seeing and dusting so many mindless vamps, he’d always assumed the demon was itself mindless.
But the presence in his head was…alive. That was the only way to describe it, really. It talked to him, whispering softly of its depraved desires. Unlike the hyena that simply existed as a part of him, the demon was almost tangible. It existed apart from him before and still. He could feel it tugging at him, gently leading him towards the mayhem that was its sole reason for being.
Spike was petting him now, fingers running softly through his hair. Those fingers were gentle, almost affectionate. The hands that picked him up and moved him into Spike’s lap were gentle, cradling him close. The whispered words that urged him to bite down and drink were gentle, full of good humor and acceptance.
Holy shit, Xander thought as blood trickled into his mouth, Spike loves me. Or this me, the Xander demon me, which is close enough to me in a not me way.
He couldn’t stop the demon from pushing forth to claim the blood it craved, so he just rode it out. What would have been repulsive as a human was satisfying to this still cool body. The blood spoke to the demon, comforted it with its familiarity. He could feel it, the demon and its needs, its desires. But they existed apart from him, as something he saw but did not participate in. He figured it was because he didn’t belong here, in this body. He was a hitchhiker in his own undead body. Man, the things he'd do to get good party conversation…
“So,” Spike said lazily. “You gonna tell me who you are or should I just guess?”
This was so close to what Spike had said to him before, and he was still lost to the sensuality of the demon’s responses. It took him a minute to understand that Spike, this Spike, knew he wasn’t…dead or demonic or whatever. Knew it and still allowed him to slice through his flesh with razor-sharp fangs.
‘Huh. Either Spike is much stupider than I ever possibly dreamed or he’s got the biggest set of balls on the planet. Possibly both.’
“I’m Xander,” he finally replied, pulling back from his position at Spike’s throat.
“Is that a fact,” Spike answered.
“Yep,” Xander told him. “This is Xander’s body and I’m Xander.”
Spike stared at him skeptically for a moment, and then lifted one eyebrow. It was so essentially Spike that Xander almost laughed. Since not all of his brain cells had been damaged, he managed to contain himself.
“Notice you said this was Xander’s body and not yours,” Spike murmured, running a finger down his cheek.
“Yeah, well…” Xander sighed. “I am Xander and this is Xander’s body. We just aren’t the same Xander.”
Spike smiled in satisfaction at that answer, ruffling Xander’s hair. Xander could only stare at him in confusion. What the hell did that mean? Did it mean something?
He could hear the demon still; its words running through him like an icy stream. It wasn’t fighting him, it just wanted him to do its bidding. The demon craved, and at least half of those cravings revolved around the man…vampire in front of him.
“You’re his Sire,” Xander said aloud in wonder. “You picked him for eternity. When the hell did that happen?”
“Not too long after Dru died,” Spike answered, still stroking his face. “Blew into town lookin’ to save her. Never did find the cure for what that mob did to her. Found you, though. Well, him.”
“Let me guess, he was dancing at the Bronze?”
“Yeah, him and his little redheaded girl,” Spike smiled beatifically, a smile that belonged to creatures both purer and more wicked than Spike could ever claim to be. “Right tasty pair they are.”
“So, you took Willow too,” Xander said, not a hint of doubt in his mind.
Spike sighed, a frown replacing that beautiful smile. “Took her first, actually. That girl had a darkness in her you could sense from a mile off. Only turned him ‘cause she bloody whinged about for weeks.”
Xander couldn’t even muster a bit of surprise. He’d been second place, second choice so often. It was what it was and he stopped being hurt by it.
Spike growled, dragging Xander close to him and claiming his lips for a punishing kiss. Xander submitted to it, the demon teasing the edges of his consciousness with gleeful punishing urgency. This mouth made him, and he wanted it on him, in him, taking him again and again and…
The sound of Spike’s voice snapped him from his mental free fall.
“You might not be him, but you’ve got the same damn issue,” the vampire snarled. “He’s too old to need my blood, but I give it anyways. Keeps him quiet, reminds him he’s mine.”
Mine. The word thrummed and danced in the air. In the truest sense, this Xander did belong to Spike. He was entirely Spike’s creation, the demon inside him springing from the blood that even now shone like rubies on Spike’s pale skin.
“Wait a minute,” Xander shook his head. “Where’s Buffy?”
Spike shot him a quizzical look, and answered, “The Slayer? Far as I know, she’s set up shop in Cleveland. Why?”
Xander slapped his forehead into his palm. This wasn’t his fuck-up. Well, maybe not. Probably not, because he hadn’t cheated on Cordelia so there should have been no reason for her to use the dreaded W word.
Xander stood, reluctantly leaving Spike’s arms. This need to be close to Spike was only slightly more disturbing than having to call up his ex-vengeance demon girlfriend to fix this. Well, she probably wasn’t ex-vengeance here. Oh, bad, bad, bad. He was gonna have to de-demon Anya and she was gonna be righteously pissed.
“Anyanka, get your ass down here now!” Xander wasn’t sure that yelling would bring a vengeance demon a-running, but it was the best idea he had at the moment.
He waited, hoping to hear the little pop that accompanied her teleport-y act. And he waited some more. Finally, he shook his head. Clearly, yelling was not the correct method of summoning a vengeance demon.
Then he heard it. The soft swooshing sounds that was as familiar to him as his vanished heartbeat. Someone was staking vamps close by and at a pretty quick clip.
Spike had given up all pretense at humanity, his demon face to the fore. A series of low snarls and hisses escaped his mouth, and he stood. Xander could only stare as the Big Bad he remembered began to suit up.
The duster had just finished swirling around Spike’s calves when the door flew in, splintering under the force of the blow. As the dust and debris settled, Xander looked straight at the possessor of said force. The face that stared back at him was alien, for all that it belonged to Buffy.
She looked thinner, harder, and darker than he’d ever seen her. Her face carried a silvery scar that split her lip. His Buffy, his shining golden girl, was drab.
She stood there for a minute as he stared at her. Her stake was raised high, but she simply stood there. Xander wondered what she was waiting for, and he said the only thing he could think of.
“Buffy, what the hell happened to you?”
She laughed at that, and her laughed belonged to her and not to the scarred woman standing in front of him. It was the laugh of a million nights at the Bronze, and post-Slaying movie fests. It was a little piece of his world and he let it shower down on him, grateful to have it.
“Xander,” she smiled. “You’re you and not all…”
He nodded and said, “Long story, Buffster, but yeah. I’m not the Xander that belongs here.”
She bit her lip, and then grimaced. With a soft sigh, she lowered her stake. Spike started to laugh, first lightly but it progressed until the sound filled the little room.
“Cocked up, did you Slayer? I’m betting you made a wish,” Spike said, between desperate chuckles.
“How did you know?” Buffy demanded. “Xander, how did he know?”
Spike answered her question before Xander could form the words. “Boy here called for Anyanka. The lady’s a vengeance demon, specializing in scorned women if I recall rightly. Stands to reason that you know him and he knows you, though I’d know if you two’d ever met. So, what did you wish for, Slayer?”
Buffy met Xander’s eyes guiltily. “I wished I’d never come to Sunnydale.”
Xander groaned. Apparently, some things were just meant to be and this had to be one of them. No freak Hellmouth coincidence was enough to explain the similarity in the wishing.
“Xander, I…” Buffy stopped and took a deep breath. “Angel was leaving. We…it hurt so bad, to be around each other. We were supposed to stop the Mayor and then he was going to leave. I just…I was thinking it would be better if we’d never met at all and this girl was there and I was crying and she asked me…”
“What you wish would have happened,” Xander finished for her, intimately acquainted with Anya’s former life. “So you said it and she did it. I understand, believe me.”
“Do you…” Buffy stared at him forlornly. “Do you know how to fix it?”
“Only way to take back the wish is to get rid of the demon’s power,” Spike told her, his voice a bit too chipper. “Good luck on that. Vengeance demons’ got a bit of the mojo and some strength besides.”
“I’m not sure how to find her,” Xander confessed. “I tried yelling, but clearly that was both ineffective and slightly boneheaded.”
“Well, yeah,” Spike scoffed. “Gotta use a summoning charm to get your girl to show up where you want her.”
“Ooh, really?” Buffy was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “So we just find the charm and she’ll show? Thanks!”
“Bugger,” Spike cursed. “Tell me I did not just give good advice to the Slayer.”
Xander moved closer to Spike and gave in to the need, Stroking Spike’s face, he put his face in the crook of Spike’s neck and just inhaled. As he nuzzled, he told the blonde demon, “Don’t worry. If this works, you’ll never remember it.”
“Oh, that’s all right then,” Spike told him softly, slightly mollified. “Gonna miss my boy, though.”
“Nah,” Xander reassured him. “You won’t remember him, either.”
Spike only stared at him, eyes widening. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The whirlwind began to tug at Xander and as he was pulled from yet another body, he heard Spike’s voice.
“No, Xander…I remember you. Sorry, luv, so sorry…”
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on 2007-12-20 12:50 am (UTC)