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Awaken

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Summary: Modern day Pygmalion, mostly light, funny, Spike/Xander - Slash

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > Romance > Spike/Xander(Past Donor)CasFR1889,9371107,13310 Jun 0817 Jul 08Yes

Ch. 8

[Four years later]

They made desperate love, all night long. Through tears and kisses, and promises and proclamations, Xander said 'goodbye.' Again.

When the morning light entered his room, Spike was gone, and he was alone. Turned out the spell had a fucking twist. He had his Spike... the man of his dreams... for exactly thirty days a year, and then he would be gone... Xander would find his statue back in the studio... and that was it.

It took him months to get used to being alone again. His calendar was based around the time Spike would return, and he marked the days off until that time. For him, the thirty days with Spike was his "weekend." There was no TGIF, it was thank God eleven months passed... and his lover was back.

It was hard, so fucking hard. And sometimes he thought he couldn't handle it anymore. And other times, he knew he'd fallen so fucking hard for his creation that even a measly 30 days a year was better than nothing.

*

"Xander, the guy is cute, you should go for it," Buffy said, with Willow nodding in agreement.

"Guys, you know it's not happening, right?" Xander lifted a statue and placed it onto a pedestal for his upcoming art exhibition. The girls had come to the art gallery sponsoring his work, and they were supposed to be helping him instead of giving him the now familiar lecture.

"Look, we love Spike, he's..." Buffy searched for words.

"Something special," Willow filled in. "You know, out of this world special."

"... BUT that doesn't mean it makes sense for you to waste your life just waiting for him. Xan, you can go out with others, you know? Maybe find someone..."

He flashed an angry look at Buffy. "I've found someone. I don't need--"

"Yeah you do. You're living in a holding pattern. We're just worried," she firmly replied.

"Yeah well, don't be." Tense, Xander strode into the other room to get more statues. His mind was so filled with Spike, he couldn't even think of being with another guy or woman.

*

On his way home, Xander heard the sounds of sirens but pretty much ignored them. His exhibition last month had been a tremendous success and he was now well established as a sought after artist with too much work. Deep in thought about his next creation, it wasn't until he was pulling up to his studio and house that he realized all the fire engines were in front of his place.

"Fuck!" His heart leaped to his throat. There was only one thing he was thinking about... Spike. Oh God... Spike.

He scrambled past the police and Firemen, after telling them he lived there. The sky overhead was gray with smoke, but the fire was out. Please God... It was the studio, not the house. No!

Buffy was there, she came and gave him a hug. She had black stuff all over her, and he saw some of his work that had been rescued. "You?"

She nodded.

Hope flashed in his heart, she'd saved his stuff... saved Spike. But then something flashed in her eyes. Guilt. "Buff?"

She shook her head no.

"But..." Hang on...she should have known, would have known he'd want her to save the Spike statue first. Understanding dawned. His eyes grew hard, "You..."

"It was time to let go," she said, avoiding his right cross. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry... how could you." A muscle pulsed in the side of his jaw. "Get out. I never want to see you again."

"I know. It's how I felt when you didn't tell me Willow figured out Jenny's curse, when it could have helped Angel. I understand now... sometimes you gotta make the hard calls, when your friends can't." Her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Get out, get out, get the fuck out..." he shoved her away and dropped to his knees. He barely heard her I love you Xander as the tears started to flow. No piece of wood was the same as the next. No amount of trying to recarve Spike would bring him back. He was alone again, and now... all those years really were for nothing.

*

[Four months later]

He'd opened up his own art gallery, and taken the apartment upstairs. This was after he'd jogged for two and a half months straight. He'd run from his life, from his friends, and from the ashes of his studio. He'd run from the pain of his loss, only to find that pain resided inside him, and there was no way to outrun it.

His apartment was now teaming with people who'd come for his house warming party. They were glitzy and artsy and they liked to drink and eat little tiny h'oerderves, and they loved him...adored his work and paid through the nose for it. He left them behind and walked into his bedroom to look out the window down at the street. He wasn't that good with people, this sort of people... he wasn't a schmoozer. Nah, it wasn't that. It was that he was still sick in the heart, and he didn't know when he'd get better.

The door opened, and Xander turned to find a Frenchmen... what was his name... oh yeah, Antoine, come in.

"Ah, there you are my friend. Your place is lovely," Antoine said, "I particularly like the vaulted ceilings and the minimalism. And your champagne."

Xander laughed. "Glad to hear it. Music isn't so bad either, is it?"

"Non. It is beautiful. Speaking of beautiful, there was a beautiful man out there looking for you." He waggled his brows. "Are you..."

"No... no I'm not."

"Then you won't mind if I make passionate love to him all night?"

"Knock yourself out." Letting out a deep breath, Xander waited until he was alone again, then put his hands on the window ledge, leaned out and gulped the fresh air. There was only one beautiful man on his mind, and he was gone. It was hard to believe, that he'd never see that irrepressible smile, the mischievous looks, the...

Feeling the warmth of a body directly behind him, he stilled. God, was he so far gone that he was closing his eyes and pretending the stranger plastering himself against his backside and slipping his arm around his waist was Spike? He hadn't touched another man, not once, not once since they'd gotten together. He would shove this one off in a moment, he would.

And then he felt a warm mouth slide up the side of his throat, just the way Spike would do it... right before he made an outrageous suggestion in his ear.

The man's hand slid over Xander's waistband and took hold of his zipper. Xander's heart was banging against his chest. Before he spoke, a warm breath caressed his ear. "Think the neighbors would mind if I had you moaning into the street?" He was pulled hard against the man's body, and who could ignore a raging hard on like that... like Spike's? "I've missed you."

Xander's head whipped around. "Spike... Spi... Spi..."

"Right, still get to you, then? That's good." The sound of Xander's zipper being pulled down announced Spike's intentions.

"No. S--"

"No means yes? Or I don't get to you anymore?" Spike brushed his hand over Xander's arousal, and chuckled against his throat.

Turning fully, Xander's heart sang with elation. It was Spike... it was his beautiful ... beautiful man, still sexy as hell and in sinfully tight jeans and a blue shirt that was so tight it left nothing to the imagination. "H... how?"

"Right here, against the window." Spike put his arms around Xander and dragged him close.

"No, I mean..." And then Spike slanted his mouth over Xander's and all thoughts fled Xander's mind. For one crazy moment, he really thought he was losing it, that this was just a daydream, a fantasy, or that he needed to go to the looney farm. A few minutes into the kiss, and he knew it was real. No one could slide his tongue in and out of his mouth like that, and with just a few small movements, make him feel like he was being fucked senseless. No one else's hands roamed, and lingered over all the right places on his body, or made heat flush through his system like this. No one could have him thrusting and straining to get closer in the middle of a house party with his door open... no one but Spike.

He broke the kiss. "Spike... oh God... I thought I lost you. I need you so much."

Spike smirked and inserted his knee between Xander's thighs. "I know. Here now." Then he saw the tears and kissed them away, ever so slowly. "Not leaving. Not ever. Not unless you toss me out, yeah?"

"Not ever... we have more than thirty days... how, Spike!" he was frustrated by the fact his lover was insisting on driving his body crazy with need while he was trying to talk.

The sound of another Zipper was almost Xander's undoing. "Spike! Listen to me. I don't want to make love, I want--"

The door swung open. "Ah, you found him," Antoine gave them a knowing look. "But Xander, you told me you didn't want him, you naughty boy. You did say I could have him, non?"

Spike pulled away. "You said he could have me?"

"No!"

Spike frowned.

"No, really..." Xander started.

"But you don't want to make love with me?" Spike asked, quoting him.

"I'll make love to you if he won't." Antoine openly leered. "Where did you find him Xander, he's absolutely breath taking."

"And if you don't get your ass out of my room, it's going to be the last breath you take." Xander stalked over to the Frenchman, literally shoved him out the door and locked it behind him. When he turned, he felt Spike's heated gaze directed as his groin. Making a face, Xander zipped up. He expected Spike to do the same. Instead, the blond sat on the window sill, legs apart, a heated invitation in his eyes.

Xander licked his lips. "Stop that."

"What's that, luv?" Spike leaned back, allowing a sliver of skin above his waistband to show.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Spike's gaze fell from Xander's eyes to his groin."

"Or like that!" When Spike looked back up and shifted his hand down to hook his thumb into his waistband, Xander was ready to melt. "And stop being sexy."

This time the blond raised his eyebrow. "Don't blame me for that, you're the bloody artist."

Xander almost choked when Spike, for no apparent reason, lifted his hips and then sat back down. He closed his eyes against the tempting sight. "Listen, this is happening too fast. I... I want to know what happened. I thought I lost you."

"But you're glad to have me back."

"Oh God yes."

"Then why won't you look at me."

Xander immediately opened his eyes to see that precious pout. "Because I can't think when you're... you're..." he waved his arms around.

"Being me?"

"Right. Wrong... okay, that's beside the point." He was getting desperate, and it showed.

"Turns out that most people who use the spell? Well, they don't hang onto their statues or manequins, paintings ... or whatever they put the spell on. It's too hard seeing someone you love only once a year. They can't wait for their lovers, so they screw around... and then the image of their lover, it makes them feel guilty, so they throw it away. That signifies the spell caster has broken free of the spell... the love he or she feels for his art, and it sets the art free. Sometimes they get together, other times not."

Xander felt the heat in the laser blue gaze trained on him. "You mean if I'd thrown you away earlier..."

Spike nodded.

"Well why didn't you tell me?" There was real anguish in Xander's tone.

"I didn't know, luv. All I knew is that I was made for you, that I couldn't wait to be with you. It was hard for me too, especially seeing you sad and lonely and not being able to do a bloody thing about it." He slapped both hands on his thighs and moved them up and down. "Those days are over now. I'm still made for you Xander. Still want you to want me so bad, you can't think."

Xander's gaze was glued on Spike's hands. All he could think of was those hands moving on his own body. If any more blood was directed to his groin, he was going to be front-heavy and fall over. Unable to restrain himself a minute longer, he ran to Spike and leaned down, putting his arms around him and bringing his mouth over his lover’s.

With every kiss, every slide of tongue against tongue, Xander forgot some of his pain. Spike's hands were on his sides, moving down over his ass, sending waves of heat through his system until he didn't know whether he was coming or going. "I do... want you so bad I can't think. Want you so bad---"

There was a pounding on the door.

"So bad you're going to ignore that," Spike got up and pushed Xander's pants down to his thighs.

"No, I gotta..."

Dropping to his knees, Spike licked Xander's belly, and then gave him open mouthed kisses as he trailed down toward his very aroused cock.

"Spike... oh God... the door..." And then Spike's mouth was around him and all the pounding in the world couldn't bring Xander back. He couldn't close his eyes, even though he wanted to. He needed much more to see that Spike was right there, that it was love shining from his eyes, and that he wasn't going to disappear. His muscles tightened as Spike worked him with his hands and his mouth, bringing him close to the edge. "Get up... Spike get up," he pulled desperately on his lover.

The instant Spike was up, Xander turned him around and pressed him against the window ledge. "About that moaning into the street... not too loud okay?" Then he was desperately pulling his sexy lover's pants down and preparing him. All the while, Spike was egging him on, with words and pleas, and by pushing back against him.

Xander pressed his arousal against Spike's hole, and grasped Spike's cock with one hand. Once he had Spike groaning and thrashing, he pushed inside him. God.... God he'd missed this, Spike so hot and tight around him, his voice so sexy as he urged him on. The raw, intensity of the sensations rocking his body had him panting with need and desire. "Love you Spike, love you more than anything."

Spike turned and put one arm Xander's head, kissing him as hard as he was getting fucked. "Me too, luv."

"Do anything for you, anything," Xander muttered, starting to see flashes of white behind his eyelids.

"Anything."

"Oh yeah..." Somehow, a little of Xander's ability to think remained. "Wait... NO!"

"Right, I'll tell you what I want..."

As Xander exploded deep inside his lover, bringing him over the edge as well, he didn't protest. Not his future which would likely be filled with embarrassing requests and all sorts of situations Spike could get him into. Not the too-loud moaning that had echoed in the streets below. And not the hands that were now exploring him even more thoroughly as the pounding on the door increased in intensity, and he heard Buffy and Willow's voices among the many.
Xander had everything he wanted and needed, right here... right now. That was what mattered.


(A/N: Hope you enjoyed that. *Hugs*)

The End

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