Sharp teeth bit deep into Xander's neck, just above where his shoulder and neck met. He arched into Spikes touch and tilted his head back to give the vampire better access. That was when he realized that this was a dream. In real life, Spike didn't touch him like this and he didn't let vampires bite him, he didn't like it when they did. He wasn't complaining about it now.
The bite didn't last long. It was a distraction, meant to keep him from tensing as Spike slid inside of him. The distraction worked. His bones felt like Jell-O. There was no pain as Spike entered him, seating himself in one long push. Xander moaned and wrapped himself tighter around Spike. He doubted anything short of an apocalypse would get him to let go of Spike.
It was strange having Spike inside of him. He didn't make a habit of letting guys fuck him, let alone undead guys, though this was by no means his first time with another man. If his trip to Oxnard had taught him anything, it was that he was a definite fence-sitter, good with either gender. So, it wasn't so much that Spike was fucking him that was weird, because, really, it felt damn good and he was pretty sure this was going to get saved in his memory banks as the best wet dream ever. No, the weird thing was how cool Spike felt at first, slightly chilled yet hard flesh that slid inexorably inside of him, growing warmer as the friction of Spike's thrusts heated his skin.
Xander was moaning loudly, his breath hitching every time Spike slammed his hips forward. Spike was licking at his throat, right over the bite mark, like he was trying to lap up every last drop of blood on Xander's skin. The vampire's tongue felt incredible. It was slightly rough, very dexterous, and he suddenly needed it in his mouth like he needed oxygen. He turned his head to catch Spike's lips. The vampire must have sensed what he wanted because suddenly Spike was all force. He pinned Xander's hands above his head and thrust wildly into him. Xander screamed, the sound of it cut off by demanding lips. One of Spike's fangs nicked the inside of Xander's lips and they both moaned as Spike's tongue frantically chased after the few drops that welled up.
The pleasure was too much. He came, harder than he ever had in his life. His release only seemed to excite Spike more. Xander could only moan, his voice dipping towards the begging and keening range of the spectrum as Spike took him with abandon, bouncing the headboard off the wall with the force of his thrusts. They didn't have long until the noise woke his parents, and this was probably the last situation he wanted his parents to find him in. Thankfully, Spike only needed a couple seconds more before he was coming with a deep growl, cold seed shooting into Xander's body and spilling down his thighs.
When he finally drifted awake, his bed was a mess of tangled sheets and spent seed. With a groan, Xander pushed himself out of bed to open the basement window and quickly bundled his pajamas and sheets into the wash. The cold water of the shower reminded him of Spike. Images and sensations from his dream stuck with him, leaving him with a deep blush that he wasn't sure was ever going to go away. Water washed over his skin, carrying away all physical traces of the nights activities, but Xander still felt like he was marked.
There was no way he was going to be able to see Spike at the meeting tonight. Before he left for work, he called Giles and left a vague excuse about needing to work overtime. The less chance he had to see his new favorite vampire, the better.
He was in the cemetery. It was the same cemetery he'd been in earlier that evening, the real evening, not the current dream evening. Buffy had dragged him out of his self-imposed Spike-centric isolation to help deal with a batch of fledges that were set to rise. They hadn't really needed him, not for much. Between Buffy and Spike, they'd had things covered by the time he'd gotten there.
This time, though, there was something off. It was too quiet as he approached the area where the fighting was supposed to be. Instead of the clash of sword on bone or fists on flesh, there was silence. Buffy and Spike had been kicking ass when he'd arrived the first time. He remembered it clearly, because he'd almost been dropped by a fledge while he'd been distracted by watching Spike move.
Cautiously, he stepped around the crypt. Ash was scattered in small heaps around the open field, but that wasn't all. There were bodies, human bodies, lying still on the blood-soaked ground. Buffy looked like her throat had been slashed. Giles was purple with bruises. Willow's injuries were hidden by the lay of her body, but from the amount of blood on the ground he could guess. Despair settled like a bowling ball in the pit of his stomach. He'd come too late. Xander rushed forward, wondering which of the piles of ash were Spike's.
A hand caught him by the throat before he could go two steps, lifting him until his toes dangled above the ground. His scream was cut off before he could even open his mouth.
Spike turned Xander to face him. For a brief second, he was overjoyed that someone was still alive. His brain hadn't fully processed the scene but out of the corner of his eye he was starting to pick up details. There was so much blood. It was all over, covering everything - the grass and the tombstones and... were those puncture marks?
"Glad you could join us, pet. Was a bit worried that I'd have to go find you, though I suppose a bit of a hunt could have been nice."
It was hard to breathe, almost impossible. He was struggling to get air. Spike saw that and loosened his grip slightly.
Spike's smile was all teeth. There was blood on his fangs. Spike pulled him closer and Xander could smell it on his breath as well. He didn't need to guess whose it was.
"Told you, didn't I," Spike said with manic grin, "what would happen when I got my chip out?"
He shivered. Terror hadn't fully set in yet, but it was creeping up on him. It was getting hard to resist the urge to start screaming and never stop.
"But you..." Spike smiled and leaned forward to whisper in Xander's ear. He heard Spike sniff his neck, and then there was a tongue, laving over the spot Spike had bit him in his other dream and it felt just as good. His body reacted. He felt sick. "You want me so badly," Spike murmured against Xander's skin. "It's flattering, really, pet. I was tempted though, to keep you. Mine. Just like the Poof promised."
Spike dropped him then and gestured grandly at the bodies strewn all around them. Xander landed a foot away from Willow. Her eyes stared vacantly at him, her mouth frozen open in a scream, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Xander knew he should be running but his body refused to move. There was that terror he'd been expecting, hitting him in full force.
"All of this, I did for you." Spike turned to him, hunger plain on his face. Xander couldn't tell if Spike was going to eat him or fuck him. He wasn't sure which was worse. "Do you like it?"
"No..." He whispered and tried not to cry. He knew it was the wrong thing to say even before he said it, but he couldn't bring himself to lie, not when all the people he cared about, save one, were now dead.
The smile disappeared from Spike's face. "Ungrateful whelp."
Spike pounced, landing hard enough to knock the breath out of Xander. He whimpered as his neck was yanked back hard enough that he was surprised it hadn't snapped. Teeth bit deep into his neck and his moan changed into a load scream. He felt more than heard Spike chuckle against his neck. Spike had him pinned fully, their bodies pressed close enough that he could feel Spike's erection pressing against him. Even as he felt his life draining into Spike's lips, he wanted Spike. He wanted Spike to take him, more than anything.
Xander woke up screaming.
He was determined to avoid sleep for as long as possible. He'd developed a new love of coffee and sugar. Energy drink stocks soared because of him and his wallet loved the overtime. He patrolled with Buffy because it was something to do at night that kept him on his feet and moving. After the first few days of this, he was certain Spike had noticed the way Xander always kept a careful distance between the two of them, but he never said anything about it or made any moves to encroach on Xander's space. He did shoot occasional odd looks but that could just be because lack of sleep had made him loopier than hell.
Despite all his precautions, none of it helped him stop dreaming about Spike in the rare moments when he passed out from sheer exhaustion. Sometimes his dreams were good and he nearly forgot why he was trying to stay awake so much. In those dreams, they were lovers. Spike would kiss him, long and lazy kisses that drove him mad with want. He'd stroke and pet him until he was begging for something firmer. Sometimes Spike would guide Xander to his knees and he'd take the vampire into his mouth, sucking him like a favorite lollipop until Spike came, shooting his seed down Xander's throat. Sometimes Spike would suck him, using his teeth to drive Xander wild while long, thin fingers played inside of him. When Spike fucked him, which happened more often than not in his dreams, it was hot and pleasant, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough, but always amazing. Those dreams made him ache for Spike in the waking world and wish he had the guts to say something.
Tonight was not one of those dreams.
He knelt at Spike's feet, naked and chained. Spike's fingers played absently with the hair at the base of Xander's neck. His other hand held the tail end of the chain attached to the collar around Xander's neck, ensuring that there would be no escape attempts tonight. Xander shifted on the cold stone floor and winced as the movement caused the barely healed lash marks on his back and legs to tighten painfully. Spike's fingers twisted in his hair as a warning. He didn't dare move again without his master's permission.
Spike's court was arrayed before them, all faces he'd once known, now twisted by their inner demons into masks of rage and hate and lust. Only Spike's ownership kept them from draining him. Buffy was speaking, reporting on the fall of the last human settlement in Southern California. Soon they'd expand through the rest of the state. The government didn't know what it was dealing with, didn't know how to stop them.
Spike smiled at her, pleased with her progress, and tipped Xander's neck back in silent invitation. Horrible glee flashed in Buffy's eyes and she stepped forward, ignoring the whimper of terror that escaped Xander's lips. Spike held him tight as he tried to get away but the best he could do was back against the side of Spike's throne. A single growl from Spike made him stop struggling. He closed his eyes as Buffy leaned in, licking her lips. Fangs pierced his neck just above the similar set of marks Spike had left on him last night. He screamed in pain but two sets of hands held him down.
At Spike's command, Buffy drew away. Blood dripped from her lips and she watched Xander hungrily as she backed away. As soon as she reached the crowd, Willow swooped in, stealing Xander's blood off of Buffy's lips. They were both smiling at him and he wanted to scream again.
He did when Spike picked him up by the hair and shoved him down on the stone floor in front of his throne. His face scraped against rough stone, bringing blood to the surface. Spike entered him with no preparation, causing Xander to scream again, louder. He never got used to it, no matter how many times Spike took him like this. It always hurt, but that was the way Spike liked it. He enjoyed Xander's pain, loved tormenting and torturing him. Spike's fingers formed new bruises on top of the existing sets already branded into his hips. He was crying, sobbing openly in pain and anguish and terror, and it only made the mob of vampires waiting eagerly around them more excited.
His head was pulled back roughly. Xander tensed, knowing what to expect as Spike's teeth closed over the wound Buffy had left, repuncturing his neck as a way of obliterating Buffy's mark and replacing it with one of his own. Spike drank from him, not deeply but enough to make him momentarily dizzy. He was shoved away seconds before Spike came, the vampire apparently choosing to shoot his seed across Xander's back and thighs instead of inside of him.
"Alright, boys," Spike said as he slapped Xander on the ass and stood, "your turn now and try not to break anything this time."
They surrounded him the second Spike stepped away, a new cock filling the void Spike had left while another forced its way into his mouth, muffling his screams.
He'd stopped screaming by the time he woke, but the feeling of hands touching him, hurting him, still remained. Xander pulled his pillow to his mouth to muffle his sobs and curled his body around him, feeling wretched. Even in his nightmares, where Spike raped him and beat him, sometimes killed him and sometimes turned him but always, every time, made him wish he could die to end it, even then he still couldn't stop wanting Spike and it made him feel sick.
He didn't sleep for three days after that dream.
It took Xander a minute to realize that he wasn't alone in the basement. He froze on the bottom step and stared at his bed. Spike sat on the foot of it, watching Xander with a focused intensity that made Xander want to drop to his knees between Spike's spread thighs and give the vampire probably not the best blowjob he'd ever had but certainly the most enthusiastic.
"Xander," Spike responded in kind, though his voice was much steadier than Xander could manage. He blamed severe lack of sleep and the fact that the object of his constant fascination was sitting on his bed.
"Something you want to tell me, pet?"
Xander's mouth hung open. For one of the few times in his life, words failed him.
Spike stood. He had the fleeting urge to run but in his current state that seemed like too much effort. His body chose to faint instead. Oddly enough he didn't feel the floor. He did feel the bed, and sleep trying to swallow him down.
A hand on his chest stopped him before he could launch himself from the bed. He panicked and fought it. Spike was careful not to grab him too hard but Xander didn't want to be touched, not right now. He tumbled off the bed and skid along the floor as far away from Spike as he could get.
This was a dream. It had to be a dream and he was too messed up right now to know if it was a good one or a bad one.
"Wake up," he told himself. "Wake up, wake up, wake up."
"Xander. Xander, listen to me."
He put his hands over his ears and tried to huddle in on himself. "Go away," he moaned. "I want to wake up."
"You're not dreaming."
Xander screamed, belatedly remembering that he was in his basement and muffling it in his fist. He was dreaming, had to be dreaming. God, Spike was going to hurt him. It was one of those dreams.
"Shh, pet." Cold arms gathered him against Spike's chest. He shivered and waited but the expected pain never came.
"What's got you so scared, pet?"
"I want to wake up," he moaned. Maybe he was lucky. Maybe this was one of the good dreams. He didn't understand why it was fucking with his head if it was.
"Why do you think you're dreaming?"
He hesitated. If, on the extremely rare, not probable off-chance that this wasn't a dream, he didn't want to let his secret slip.
"You can tell me." Spike rubbed his arms reassuringly. "I won't think badly of you."
"You're always here in my dreams," Xander whispered.
Spike tensed and Xander whimpered. "Please don't hurt me. I don't want this to be one of the bad dreams."
He nodded into Spike's chest.
"Are there good dreams too?"
He nodded again.
One of Spike's hands slipped under his chin and lifted him to face Spike. "Xander, I promise you, this is not a dream, and I swear, I'm not going to hurt you. I can't. Chipped, remember?"
"Really?" In all of his dreams, every one of them, Spike never lied to him. There'd never been a reason to.
Spike leaned forward, taking Xander's lips in a chaste kiss. He leaned into it. The feeling was stronger than any of his dreams, more real, more solid. He relaxed into the kiss and felt himself dropping off to sleep.
"Tired, pet? You haven't been sleeping much, have you?"
Xander shook his head and grunted some sort of affirmative. At some point his head had fallen back on Spike's chest, though he didn't remember moving. He was so tired.
"Let's get you to bed then."
He was too tired to push Spike away, but he must have mumbled some sort of protest because Spike held him closer. Spike lifted him like he weighed nothing and then tucked him in bed before crawling in right behind him. He could barely move on his own, he was so out of it. Still, Spike didn't do anything, though he could easily have taken advantage of him. That was what really proved to Xander that this wasn't a dream. In his dreams, Spike was always raring to have sex with him, but this Spike, while obviously interested, wasn't pushing it on him.
Xander fell asleep in Spike's arms and for the first time in months, didn't dream.