Spike had finally got "Passions" to come through clearly on his jury-rigged television and was settling down with a nice mug of blood to watch it, when the door of his crypt banged open. Spike mumbled some choice curses when Xander's silhouette appeared in the doorway, framed by deadly sunlight.
"Buffy—to what do I owe the displeasure?" Spike asked, resignedly putting down his cup of O positive. "No—let me guess—this is about Xander, isn't it?"
Xander closed the door; it took a second for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but before he could pinpoint where Spike's voice had come from, Spike was already right in his face.
"I know what you're gonna say, but it's not like that. Not that I give a flying toss what you think—'cause frankly it's none of your business," Spike said indignantly. He was just getting started: "And it's not like you've got anything to worry about—chip, remember? I couldn't hurt the boy even if I wanted to…which I don't," he added quickly. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. Hell, I don't much understand it myself—but so help me I love the little twerp." Spike stood his ground, his jaw muscles bunching and his fists clenched in case she decided to make something of it.
"Are you finished?" asked Xander patiently.
"Yeh. That about covers it," said Spike.
"So…you're telling me you're in love?" asked Xander, fighting to keep his voice neutral.
"Yeah, I suppose I am. You got a problem with that?" said Spike defensively.
"No," said Xander with a little smile. "Actually, I'm all good with that." Xander clasped his hands to either side of Spike's face and was about to kiss him, but Spike slapped his hands away.
"Here—you takin' the piss?" he said.
"Spike, you doof, it's me…Xander."
Spike eyed him suspiciously. "Xander…not Buffy?"
"It's me, inside and out," he replied. "You're not disappointed, are you?" he asked, a little worried. He hadn't considered the possibility that the new Xander packaging might not appeal to Spike.
Spike rolled his eyes and grabbed Xander by the belt, drawing him closer. "Now why would I be disappointed?"
"I thought… When this all started, I thought it was Buffy you wanted," Xander said quietly.
"'Course it was. But things changed—now I want you," said Spike as if Xander was a few bricks short of a load. "And just think—I get to be the very first man to kiss those lips."
Xander hesitated; debating whether or not he should tell him he'd already been kissed by Giles and Riley. The spark of lust in Spike's eyes made the decision for him, and the moment the vampire's lips touched his, he knew he'd made the right choice.
It was like starting all over again, but it was also like coming home. Spike's kiss ignited totally new sensations in him, yet at the same time, everything about it was familiar. His hands slid over Spike's marble-cold chest—drawn along the same muscular contours he'd felt before—but under his own hands, the skin seemed smoother somehow. It was different, too, looking into those incredibly blue eyes without having to crane his neck. But most importantly, when Spike's cool hand slipped into his pants and fisted his burning erection for the first time, Xander wanted to weep at the achingly familiar sensation. Familiar because he'd imagined how it would feel for as long as he could remember.
Spike led him like a dog on a leash over to his favourite chair and gently sat him down in it. With a few seconds' manoeuvring, he had Xander's pants off and was kneeling between his knees.
Xander looked down at the blond head, studied the chiselled cheekbones and pouty lips, and imagined how amazing those pouty lips were going to feel around him. With that image flashing through his mind in large 3-d graphics, Xander lost control like some pubescent teenager and shot his load before Spike could even get started.
Spike looked up at him—scarred eyebrow arched—looking supremely pleased with himself.
"Sorry," said Xander sheepishly.
"Nothin' to be sorry for," Spike said, trying his best not to sound disappointed. "There'll be plenty of time to try again. That is, unless you've got somewhere else you've got to be."
Xander gave a half-laugh. "Actually…since Buffy got me kicked out of my place, and Anya's not likely to let me back into her apartment, I guess there really isn't anywhere for me to go. Hey…you wouldn't happen to know of any damp, gloomy crypts that have a vacancy, would ya?"
Spike couldn't believe what he was getting himself into, but he found himself saying: "Yeah—I can think of a place. So long as you promise never to interrupt "Passions" again."
Xander grinned from ear to ear and sized up the place. It wasn't great, but with a little bit of redecorating, he could live with it.