Fic: Deciphering Fire, Pt 3
Feb. 10th, 2006 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wesleysgirlPrevious parts here or tagged.
Spike doesn't give him enough warning -- Xander almost drops the vampire on his face. "Spike? Shit."
He lowers Spike the rest of the way to the floor, then looks around, trying to find a safe place to hole up for a little while. Now that they've moved away from the part of the building they'd been in, the walls and stuff are in better shape, but the chaos around them is still pretty chaotic. There are people bleeding and screaming and some of them are even running around, but Xander's too distracted by Spike to pay enough attention to any of it to figure out what's going on.
Hefting Spike over his shoulder, Xander moves off to the right and shoves open the door to the stairwell, ignoring the 'emergency only' sign. He almost expects something to happen -- a blaring alarm, more security guards coming running -- but it's surprisingly quiet, and dark, inside. Xander gently lowers Spike to the floor, cradling the vampire's head with one hand as easily as if he's done it every day for the past year instead of just wishing he'd been able to.
Spike's always been pale, but now he's so white that his skin's almost transparent. The t-shirt Xander tied around his arm five minutes ago is soaked through with blood, but Xander thinks maybe the bleeding is stopping now.
Even if it is, that doesn't change anything.
You can't fly with a knife, not even a little pocket one, but Xander has his keys in his pocket, and one of them is sharp enough to do the job. It's just a ragged wound, not deep; he drops his keys onto the floor with a clink and pulls Spike closer, cushioning Spike between his updrawn knees and leaning against the wall as he presses his forearm to Spike's mouth.
"Come on, baby," Xander coaxes. The endearment is as natural as blinking; even that thought makes his eye socket ache. Everyone's been telling him to get a prosthetic eye for ages, but he keeps putting it off. Spike was the only one who ever understood why he didn't want one.
Spike whimpers and twitches, his tongue coming out to lick at his lips.
"That's it." Xander hopes he sounds less afraid than he feels. Cold flick of Spike's tongue across his skin, then Spike slides into vamp face and bites down.
It hurts. Xander knew it would; he's not stupid, even if he had hoped that all the erotic stuff about letting a vampire feed from you was true. It sucks that here, now, is the first time he's ever felt it, but he needs Spike, and this is the only option he's got.
After a minute, Spike makes a little sound of pleasure in the back of his throat and reaches up to hold onto Xander's arm. Xander lets him, trying to ignore the pain of vampire teeth sunk into his flesh and concentrating instead on Spike's expression as he feeds. "Good," he murmurs. "Good. That's it." He strokes Spike's hair with a touch more like a lover's than a friend's; he's missed this so much that he aches with it.
Spike swallows, licks, swallows again, and then his eyes open, golden and none the less beautiful for it. He blinks, then shifts back to his human face so quickly that they're both startled by it. "You shouldn't have done that," he says shortly, pulling away.
"Yeah, because having you unconscious is so much better," Xander snaps. "Concentrate, okay? We have more important things to worry about than what I should or shouldn't have done." He grimaces at the sensation of blood trickling down his arm.
"Let me see," Spike says. He's moving easier, at least, like his own arm doesn't hurt as much. He grabs Xander's wrist, none too gently, and looks at the wound. "S'all right." It's a grudging admission, and he's not wrong; the bleeding is slowly, sluggish.
Then, very slowly, Spike lifts Xander's arm to his mouth and licks the skin.
Every hair on Xander's body, or at least it feels like it, stands on end. There's a world of difference between an unaware Spike licking him and this -- this is deliberate, careful, wanton.
Spike raises his head and leans in, still slowly, giving Xander time to stop him, but that's the last thing Xander wants. This is what Xander wants, and when Spike's lips touch his, he moans desperately and surges closer, grabbing two handfuls of Spike's shirt front and holding on, feeding from Spike's mouth as surely as Spike was feeding from him only minutes before.
God, he's missed this so much. Kissing Spike was always an incredible surprise; he can remember the first time, pulling back and staring at Spike with a sense of wonder more intense than he'd ever felt before, and now he's trying to recapture that, to cram everything he's missed in the past year into this one moment, which is obviously impossible, but it's just as impossible to stop.
"Shh, love," Spike murmurs finally, pushing him away. "There'll be time for this later."
Xander gives him a look of disbelief. "What if there isn't?" he asks, gripping Spike's shirt so tightly that his knuckles hurt.
"Then we'll both be devastatingly disappointed," Spike says, brushing his thumb across Xander's cheekbone. "Gotta find Bit, don't we."
Xander had forgotten about Dawn. Jesus. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. We do."
They get to their feet, Xander leaning on the wall a little bit more than he thinks he ought to. His head aches. "Wait," he says.
"What?" Spike sounds impatient.
"Just... promise me you won't leave again until we talk. Really talk. Okay?" Xander's sure he sounds as desperate as he feels, and the look in Spike's eyes confirms it.
"I swear," Spike says. "All right?" He pushes the stairwell door open and steps through the doorway. "Where the hell are we?"
"Not too far from where we were before," Xander says, and that's when he smells -- and sees -- the smoke. "Is that -- ?"
"Yeah." Spike grabs onto his arm and drags him back into the stairwell.
"Where are we going?" Xander asks, stumbling then catching himself as Spike starts to haul him up the steps.
"Up," Spike says. "Gotta get to the ground floor, don't we?"
Xander tries to think. Weren't they...? Oh yeah, they'd never actually made it up the escalator. Even in the stairwell there's the smell of something, something wrong, but Xander doesn't think it's smoke. It's sharp like ammonia, and it makes his stomach flip-flop. He gags and stumbles again. "What is that?"
"Magic." Spike slows down, glancing at Xander. "Surprised you can smell it."
"I wish I couldn't," Xander says. "Wait. What? Why?"
"Think you forgot to add 'Where,'" Spike says.
"Not to mention who, but that's not the point. I shouldn't be able to smell it?" Xander's mouth was working faster than his brain.
"Never have before, have you?" Spike shakes his head as they turn the landing. "Something's changed."
"Any idea what?" They get to the next door and Xander pauses with his hand on the crash bar, not pushing the door open until Spike has time to answer.
Spike seems to think about it before shaking his head, but Xander knows him too well. If there's a way someone can lie badly with a gesture, Spike just did it.
"What?" Xander says.
Spike sighs heavily and looks away. "Guess," he says.
"Well, I'd say apocalypse but don't you think that's kind of cliche at this point?" Xander shoves the door open and stares into the open mouth of what he's pretty sure is a dragon.
The dragon snarls and belches and gets a look in its beady eyes that tells Xander it thinks he looks like a tasty snack, and Xander... can't... move.
"Shut the bloody door!" Spike shouts, and does, getting the metal surface between Xander and the gout of flame that shoots out of the dragon's mouth in the nick of time.
In a trembling voice, because he's shaking all over, Xander says, "Apocalypse, anyone?"
TBC
Spike doesn't give him enough warning -- Xander almost drops the vampire on his face. "Spike? Shit."
He lowers Spike the rest of the way to the floor, then looks around, trying to find a safe place to hole up for a little while. Now that they've moved away from the part of the building they'd been in, the walls and stuff are in better shape, but the chaos around them is still pretty chaotic. There are people bleeding and screaming and some of them are even running around, but Xander's too distracted by Spike to pay enough attention to any of it to figure out what's going on.
Hefting Spike over his shoulder, Xander moves off to the right and shoves open the door to the stairwell, ignoring the 'emergency only' sign. He almost expects something to happen -- a blaring alarm, more security guards coming running -- but it's surprisingly quiet, and dark, inside. Xander gently lowers Spike to the floor, cradling the vampire's head with one hand as easily as if he's done it every day for the past year instead of just wishing he'd been able to.
Spike's always been pale, but now he's so white that his skin's almost transparent. The t-shirt Xander tied around his arm five minutes ago is soaked through with blood, but Xander thinks maybe the bleeding is stopping now.
Even if it is, that doesn't change anything.
You can't fly with a knife, not even a little pocket one, but Xander has his keys in his pocket, and one of them is sharp enough to do the job. It's just a ragged wound, not deep; he drops his keys onto the floor with a clink and pulls Spike closer, cushioning Spike between his updrawn knees and leaning against the wall as he presses his forearm to Spike's mouth.
"Come on, baby," Xander coaxes. The endearment is as natural as blinking; even that thought makes his eye socket ache. Everyone's been telling him to get a prosthetic eye for ages, but he keeps putting it off. Spike was the only one who ever understood why he didn't want one.
Spike whimpers and twitches, his tongue coming out to lick at his lips.
"That's it." Xander hopes he sounds less afraid than he feels. Cold flick of Spike's tongue across his skin, then Spike slides into vamp face and bites down.
It hurts. Xander knew it would; he's not stupid, even if he had hoped that all the erotic stuff about letting a vampire feed from you was true. It sucks that here, now, is the first time he's ever felt it, but he needs Spike, and this is the only option he's got.
After a minute, Spike makes a little sound of pleasure in the back of his throat and reaches up to hold onto Xander's arm. Xander lets him, trying to ignore the pain of vampire teeth sunk into his flesh and concentrating instead on Spike's expression as he feeds. "Good," he murmurs. "Good. That's it." He strokes Spike's hair with a touch more like a lover's than a friend's; he's missed this so much that he aches with it.
Spike swallows, licks, swallows again, and then his eyes open, golden and none the less beautiful for it. He blinks, then shifts back to his human face so quickly that they're both startled by it. "You shouldn't have done that," he says shortly, pulling away.
"Yeah, because having you unconscious is so much better," Xander snaps. "Concentrate, okay? We have more important things to worry about than what I should or shouldn't have done." He grimaces at the sensation of blood trickling down his arm.
"Let me see," Spike says. He's moving easier, at least, like his own arm doesn't hurt as much. He grabs Xander's wrist, none too gently, and looks at the wound. "S'all right." It's a grudging admission, and he's not wrong; the bleeding is slowly, sluggish.
Then, very slowly, Spike lifts Xander's arm to his mouth and licks the skin.
Every hair on Xander's body, or at least it feels like it, stands on end. There's a world of difference between an unaware Spike licking him and this -- this is deliberate, careful, wanton.
Spike raises his head and leans in, still slowly, giving Xander time to stop him, but that's the last thing Xander wants. This is what Xander wants, and when Spike's lips touch his, he moans desperately and surges closer, grabbing two handfuls of Spike's shirt front and holding on, feeding from Spike's mouth as surely as Spike was feeding from him only minutes before.
God, he's missed this so much. Kissing Spike was always an incredible surprise; he can remember the first time, pulling back and staring at Spike with a sense of wonder more intense than he'd ever felt before, and now he's trying to recapture that, to cram everything he's missed in the past year into this one moment, which is obviously impossible, but it's just as impossible to stop.
"Shh, love," Spike murmurs finally, pushing him away. "There'll be time for this later."
Xander gives him a look of disbelief. "What if there isn't?" he asks, gripping Spike's shirt so tightly that his knuckles hurt.
"Then we'll both be devastatingly disappointed," Spike says, brushing his thumb across Xander's cheekbone. "Gotta find Bit, don't we."
Xander had forgotten about Dawn. Jesus. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. We do."
They get to their feet, Xander leaning on the wall a little bit more than he thinks he ought to. His head aches. "Wait," he says.
"What?" Spike sounds impatient.
"Just... promise me you won't leave again until we talk. Really talk. Okay?" Xander's sure he sounds as desperate as he feels, and the look in Spike's eyes confirms it.
"I swear," Spike says. "All right?" He pushes the stairwell door open and steps through the doorway. "Where the hell are we?"
"Not too far from where we were before," Xander says, and that's when he smells -- and sees -- the smoke. "Is that -- ?"
"Yeah." Spike grabs onto his arm and drags him back into the stairwell.
"Where are we going?" Xander asks, stumbling then catching himself as Spike starts to haul him up the steps.
"Up," Spike says. "Gotta get to the ground floor, don't we?"
Xander tries to think. Weren't they...? Oh yeah, they'd never actually made it up the escalator. Even in the stairwell there's the smell of something, something wrong, but Xander doesn't think it's smoke. It's sharp like ammonia, and it makes his stomach flip-flop. He gags and stumbles again. "What is that?"
"Magic." Spike slows down, glancing at Xander. "Surprised you can smell it."
"I wish I couldn't," Xander says. "Wait. What? Why?"
"Think you forgot to add 'Where,'" Spike says.
"Not to mention who, but that's not the point. I shouldn't be able to smell it?" Xander's mouth was working faster than his brain.
"Never have before, have you?" Spike shakes his head as they turn the landing. "Something's changed."
"Any idea what?" They get to the next door and Xander pauses with his hand on the crash bar, not pushing the door open until Spike has time to answer.
Spike seems to think about it before shaking his head, but Xander knows him too well. If there's a way someone can lie badly with a gesture, Spike just did it.
"What?" Xander says.
Spike sighs heavily and looks away. "Guess," he says.
"Well, I'd say apocalypse but don't you think that's kind of cliche at this point?" Xander shoves the door open and stares into the open mouth of what he's pretty sure is a dragon.
The dragon snarls and belches and gets a look in its beady eyes that tells Xander it thinks he looks like a tasty snack, and Xander... can't... move.
"Shut the bloody door!" Spike shouts, and does, getting the metal surface between Xander and the gout of flame that shoots out of the dragon's mouth in the nick of time.
In a trembling voice, because he's shaking all over, Xander says, "Apocalypse, anyone?"
TBC
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Date: 2006-02-10 07:08 pm (UTC)