Title: Sharing Space
Pairings: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Fluffy little fic about Spike living with Xander
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

We've shared a bed for months. Shared a bed, his warmth and kept nightmares at bay. It all started a couple months after Buffy moved me into Xander's flat. I came in one early one night from being out, wandering, when I heard the boy whimpering in his sleep. Didn't think much of it, everyone whimpers a little when they sleep. Then he started moaning and calling out. Just one or two words at a time, "No" and "Stop" and "Look out!" When he started screaming, I ran to him. I pulled him into my arms and just held him. He calmed back down and I tried to get out of his bed, but his arms tightened around me and pulled me back in the bed. I slept next to him that night, his warm body cradled in my arms.

The next morning was a little awkward when we woke. There was startled shouting on Xander's part and, for once in my unlife, I wanted to avoid any arguments, so I just got up and went to my room. It's a good thing that Xander rises before the sun because the curtains were wide open.

When he got home that night, it was already dark and I was out. However, I left him a note, trying to explain my actions.

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.

I got home and found a note from him.

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.

Then I heard the whimpering start. I quickly changed into my sleep pants so I wouldn't have to spend another night sleeping in my jeans, T-shirt and boots, and went to Xander's room. The curtains were already closed, so I again pulled him into my arms and soothed the nightmares away.

That morning, Xander yawned and stretched, then quietly thanked me for being there. I've slept in his bed every night since. He told me to stay there throughout the day if I wanted early on. My room is back to being a closet and we share the bedroom. Many mornings we wake and start snogging. That, too, started out simple. One simple peck on the cheek to thank me. I can't say I hadn't thought about him that way before. I just never expected him to let me touch him outside slaying and post-slaying bandaging, and now he lets me hold him at night and kiss him in the morning.

Occasionally, Xander will lightly stroke my cock as he kisses me, but whenever I try to return the favor, he shies away. It's really starting to get frustrating. I can hear him toss off in the loo when he goes to take his morning shower. Many mornings I bring myself off just listening to him, still surrounded by his lingering scent. I know he desires me. I just can't figure out how to fulfill his desires.

Part 2

I finally figured it out. As shocking as it may seem, Xander wants to be taken. He doesn't want me to be gentle. He wants to be the gentle one. What he wants, for lack of better terms, is a Sire. I don't mean that he wants to be turned. Just that he wants someone to take the control away from him. It has been so long since I was a true Sire to anyone that I missed the signs until now. I protect him, soothe away his nightmares, and he tenderly tries to give me pleasure, taking none for himself. Of course, if he were my Childe, he wouldn't be allowed to toss off alone like he does.

This morning, I couldn't take it any longer. I needed to feel him. To be inside him. Once he started to stir, I rolled him onto his back, kissing him savagely. He sleepily thrust up against me. I practically tore his boxers from his body as I removed my own sleep pants. He moaned happily at my aggression. Grabbing the lube from the night stand drawer, I coated my fingers and cock. I'm sure I bruised his lips as I kissed him. He didn't seem to mind. He tensed as I breached his puckered opening with my finger, then relaxed into my ministrations.

Slowly, I added a second finger, searching for the nubbin I knew would make him see stars. Finding his prostate, his cock twitched and leaked pre-cum on his belly. I scissored my fingers in that tight heat, loosening him enough for a third finger. He groaned when I removed my fingers, whispering that he was empty. I told him to be still and breathe, that I would fill him up soon enough. I made sure my cock was still slick and pressed fully into him in one stroke. I nearly came on the spot, surrounded by all that tight heat. Once he had adjusted to my size, he started rocking his hips, urging me to move.

I didn't move slowly. Immediately, I set a furious pace. Pounding into him with months of pent-up frustration, I grabbed his hard length and stroked him in time with my 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 I collapse onto him. He strokes my hair as he catches his breath. I start to move off of him, but he holds me fast. He whispers for me to stay as he clenches around my cock. I harden again and we slowly thrust against one another. For hours, we repeat this… love making.

"I love you, Alexander."

"I love you, William."

The End

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