Spike let his eyes roll up into his head as his hands slipped from their grasp on Remy’s shoulders and just gave up on doing anything more than letting the pleasure wash through him, letting wave after wave crest and crash over him. They had kept him on the edge for what seemed like hours, and it had been ages ago that he’d last been able to form a coherent thought. Xander was next to them on the bed, one hand stroking his chest, the other stroking wheat blond hair tangled in loose curls, and telling him how gorgeous he looked, how vulnerable, unable to do anything but feel as his body was ravaged. Xander loved to watch the two of them together, said he could never get over the way they looked, the way they moved. Soon Remy would exhaust himself inside Spike and Xander would take over his body. Normally it was Xander they did this too, and less often Remy, but his lovers had taken it upon themselves to drive him to distraction, to make him come over and over again, to reduce him to a desperate, begging mess, to hear his broken, pleading cries and frenetic keening, and they had succeeded. Oh how they had succeeded.
It was almost two years since Xander had landed here, since he’d chased after him and decided to stay. They were a part of the team, a part of the family now, and Spike had never been more content or at peace. He had been accepted, and had in turn accepted the household as pack, as under his protection. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, he got along best with Logan. They were like two old hunt-brothers, protecting the young ones, making the den safe. They would often go out and hunt together, go out to a bar to drink and play pool, they could often be found on the porch together, smoking quietly.
He and Scott had had their clashes to be sure, but when Scott had been captured and tortured by the Friends of Humanity, it had taken Logan, as well as his two mates, to hold him back while they made a plan, so determined he was on tearing through their ranks and bathing in their blood, drinking in their pain until the team leader was back with them.
Emmeline was turning into a beautiful young girl, graceful and lively as she grew into her long limbs and almost ethereal beauty. All three men were as fathers to her, and Logan, Bobby and Hank were as uncles or brothers or cousins, all drawn into their peculiar family. All of plant life spoke to her, her mutant power having given her an intrinsic understanding of nature and life. She could encourage plants to grow in environments not meant for them, could tell you what a plant needed, what was lacking. She could find a trail in a forest and tell you what animals had passed by, which birds called a tree home, which plants had grown in that spot in the past, hundreds of years gone, the soil memory rich and fragrant to her.
They talked to Giles every week on that blasted pink seashell. Willow had never forgiven Xander for choosing Remy and Spike, and Emmeline and the X-Men over her, and they rarely spoke to her but for a few short terse conversations. Buffy was apathetic about it, only cared inasmuch as it affected her to have to deal with Willow and Giles and Dawn, who joined Giles talking to them and loved to hear what they were doing, listen to them tell tales of their adventures, of life in the mansion.
Of course, fourteen years had gone by for the other Scoobies, and time had taken its toll. Buffy was nearly five years buried, dead saving the world from those that would see it burned. For all her faults and shortcomings, she was still and always would be The Slayer, the original, and all followed her legacy. Giles was older now, but still ruled The Council with an iron fist, made sure they knew their place in the grand scheme of things. He knew every watcher by name, had personally recruited more than half of them. There were thousands of slayers around the world now, and they were never alone anymore.
Willow was in a coma, unlikely to ever awaken, cared for deep in the maze of The Watcher’s Council. A few years after casting her spell on Xander she had been found in the middle of a field, surrounded by spell materials, unconscious and unresponsive, burnt out. They had never discovered what spell she had been performing and likely never would.
Dawn was a woman now, married and with a young girl of her own. Spike and Xander had never once regretted their stay with the X-Men, but if they could have had one day with Dawn they would have desperately loved to see her walk down the aisle, cried and cheered for her as she married someone who would never be good enough for her, if only because she was their future, their dawn. Michael tried though, and even Spike had to admit he was the perfect man for their girl. He loved her more than life itself and would die before any harm came to her or Angela Joyce. They worked together for the Watcher’s Council, translating and researching and decoding prophecies and preventing the apocalypses that had always plagued their lives.
They would continue to talk to Giles and Dawn every week, and Dawn and her daughter after that, and her daughter and her children after that, everyone unwilling to break the chain, sever the tie between two worlds’ greatest heroes.
His two mates were his life now, and while he loved the X-Men like the family a demon like him had never been allowed to have, he would follow Xander and Remy wherever they went, past the ends of the earth, through time and space. The three were bonded now, granted long life by Spike’s immortality, an unbreakable link from Remy’s empathic powers, and a bone deep connection with the earth through Xander’s primal spirit. He lived to see the smiles that lit up Xander’s face, the mischievousness that twinkled in Remy’s eyes and he prayed to whoever would listen that he would never be without them.
He abruptly felt the charge that Remy couldn’t always hold back rush through his body as the mutant came, and he whimpered brokenly, but unable to resist as Xander held his orgasm back. Tenderly, the other man slid into the vacancy Remy had left and wrapped himself around the vampire, grounding him, connecting him as surely as Remy, who purred in his ear and gently stroked his flushed cock. He felt their heat wrap around him, felt their scent soaking into his skin, their love seeping into his mind.
He heard the whispers as if through a layer of cotton, but those voices would always mean lovetrustsafematesforever
to the deepest parts of his soul, even if he couldn’t quite understand their meaning.
“Love you always…” “…let yourself go for us, baby” “…feel me?” “…gorgeous cher” “…that’s it…” “perfect” “…now baby, give it to us…” “…let us feel it.” Even as he listened to the voices and felt release rip through him, even as he sunk into darkness cocooned by warmth and strength and love, he spared a moment for the thought that Xander hadn’t been the only one who’d found what he needed.