Title: Spaces Shared
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Fluffy little fic about Spike living with Xander, companion to Sharing Space
Spoilers: Season 7, Episode "Him" (where Spike moves in with Xander, again)
Disclaimer: No, they aren't mine. I just like to play with them.
Feedback: Good for a fic-writer's soul
Archive: Want, take, have.

Part 1

Apparently, I talk in my sleep. OK, more like scream, but still, I didn't know I did it until he moved back in with me. He never told me about it when we shared the basement. I know I had the nightmares then. Anya never told me when she was still with me. I've had nightmares all my life. They vary. Nightmares about my family, my friends, demons… life. Someone always gets hurt, sometimes it's me, and I'm always helpless to stop it. I guess they got worse after Anya and I broke up. I was the cause of the hurt there and I do feel guilty about that. Maybe that's when I became vocal in my sleep.

The first morning that I woke up in his arms was quite a shock. I mean, who wouldn't be shocked when they go to sleep alone, have nightmares, which suddenly stop I might add, and wake up with someone's arms around them. A someone of the same sex… an undead someone. OK, so I freaked! Sue me. I shouted at him. I'm really not a morning person and I should have just said "Thank you, Spike," but I didn't. It actually felt good to wake up in his arms. I felt so protected. Of course, since Jessie was… since I had to stake Jessie, I pretty much avoided male-touching.

Jessie and I experimented with each other when it came to sex. We never actually *had* sex, but there was a lot of "naughty touching" between us. After him, I just never looked at another man the same way. Especially when Larry came out to me because he assumed that I was gay. So, when I woke up that morning, feeling all safe in Spike's arms, I pushed him away. He just got out of the bed and went to the closet I called a spare bedroom. I spent the entire day cursing myself for treating him that way. I didn't know how to tell him I was sorry, so I waited until after dark before I returned to the apartment, hoping he would be out. He was, but he left me a note.

You were having nightmares last night. I tried to soothe you. In your sleep, you wouldn't let me leave. I meant no harm. Nothing else happened. I'm sorry if it bothered you. It won't happen again.

Damn him for being the grown-up. No, I don't mean that. I just wish that I had been the one to be grown-up about this situation this morning. OK, fine, I decided to leave him a note as well.

I'm sorry I freaked this morning. I didn't expect ANYONE to be in bed with me. I appreciate you helping me. I have some really nasty nightmares, I hate them. So, I guess it's OK if you can help stop them. No harm done.

I got ready for bed, putting on my standard T-shirt and boxers for sleeping and closing the curtains. I have nightmares again, then suddenly peace. Thankful for a mostly restful night, I wake and stretch. I know the alarm clock woke him, so I whisper my thanks and tell him not to get up. He's slept in my bed every night since. We moved what few belongings he has into the bedroom and the closet became a closet again.

One morning, after about three blissful weeks of nightmare-free sleep, I gave him a peck on the cheek as I got up. He looked surprised and so innocent, but he smiled and went back to sleep. After that, we started kissing more and more in the mornings. I even set my alarm earlier so I would have more time to kiss those soft, cool lips. I could feel is cock straining against the front of his sleep pants. It was so tempting there, throbbing as we kissed. I wondered how it would feel in my hand. The first time I stroked it, we both nearly came on the spot. It was slightly warmer than the rest of his body, but still comfortably cool.

He tried to stroke my cock too, but at first it just brought back too many memories. Soft kisses and mutual masturbation. Jessie. I shied away. Of course, I want him. I'm just afraid of losing him. I know it's stupid. Jessie was still alive when we were almost lovers, then he got turned and I had to dust him. Spike is already a vampire. Maybe if he just takes me and fucks me raw, I'll get past this. I jerk off to the mental images of Spike fucking me when I take my showers in the morning. I'm sure he can hear me. I'm sure he can smell my lust when he takes his shower. I'm sure he's just as confused as I am.

Part 2

Saturday morning, I woke up and was rolled onto my back, being kissed savagely. I thrust up against him, instantly hard. He practically tore my boxers and shirt off as he also removed his sleep pants. Gods, yes, this is good! I moan something, but I don't think it's words and if it is, it certainly isn't English. He grabbed the lube from the night stand that was left over from Anya, she had lubrication issues, and coated his fingers and cock. He kissed me so hard, he bruised my lips. I don't care, a little rough is fun sometimes. I tensed a little as his finger circled my asshole. I took a breath and relaxed. I knew he wouldn't hurt me intentionally.

Slowly, he added a second finger, and started searching for something. When he found what he was searching for, my prostate, stars exploded in front of my eyes. My cock twitched and a little pre-cum leaked onto my belly. He scissored his fingers and slipped in a third finger. He removed his fingers and I groaned. "I'm empty," I whimpered, trying to thrust back up onto his fingers. He told me to be still and breathe, that I wouldn't be empty for long. He was right. I took a couple of deep breaths and he pressed his entire cock into me in one stroke. Spike gave me a few moments to adjust to his size, then I started rocking my hips, urging him to move.

He didn't move slowly. Immediately, he set a furious pace. It felt incredible. He grabbed my hard length and stroked in time with our thrusts. We barely spoke as our lips were too busy kissing and nipping at each other. We fit so well together, yin and yang, light and dark. We both roar out our climaxes at the same time and he collapses onto me. I stroke his blond hair as I catch my breath. He starts to move off of me, but I hold him still. I whisper, "Stay," and clench around his cock. I thank the stars for vampire stamina as he gets hard again and we slowly thrust against one another. For hours, we repeat this… love making. I don't know who says it first. I don't think it matters. We say it.

"I love you, William."

"I love you, Alexander."

The End

Back to Fiction
Back Home
E-mail me