Desires Not Spoken

AUTHOR: Jypzrose
EMAIL: jypzrose@aol.com
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike, Spike/Xander
SPOILERS: None. Set sometime in S6
DISTRIBUTION: Email me first.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Warning - contains slash.
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They never talked.

That was the invisible boundary that surrounded them each time they came together. No talking. Talking led to reality, reality led to feelings and feelings led to. . .so, they didn't talk.

Xander couldn't say when-or how-exactly his views on the vampire had changed. If he stopped to think about it, he would have realized that they really hadn't. He still considered the blonde evil, dirty, beneath contempt. But, there was something that drew him to Spike, no matter how he tried to resist. There was a sort of freedom, in sliding into the eager body of the vampire that he couldn't get with Anya. He was doing something forbidden, wrong. It excited him.

He supposed it must be the same way for Buffy. At least, that's all he could come up with as he found himself face to face with the evidence. He'd headed straight here, leaving Anya to look at her mountains of Bridal magazines, not stopping to think why. He never did. If he stopped to think, he'd hate himself. So, better not to think. But, then, he'd gone inside the crypt, and was a little surprised to see that Spike wasn't in his usual chair in front of the tv, a bottle of liquor propped between his powerful thighs. Then, he'd heard a crash from downstairs. Before he had time to realize that what he was feeling was concern for the vamp, he dashed to the trap door and hurried down the ladder. Which led him to be where he was now, revulsion and arousal warring sickly in his stomach.

Buffy was on her knees on the bed, her golden skin slicked with sweat. Her face-or what he could see of it, since it was pressed into the mattress-was twisted in intense pleasure, her fingers clawing desperately at the sheets. Spike was behind her, the dim light from the candles playing over his pale limbs, giving his flesh a warm glow. His long fingers were gripping her hips, controlling the rhythm of their fucking (that's all Xander could think of it as, despite the love that was shining so obviously from the blondes eyes). The sight of Spike's thick, glistening cock, sliding in and out of Buffy's body had jealousy spreading hot through his blood. He told himself it was because Spike was taking what Xander never could. The painful bite of his hard on against the zipper of his jeans told him the truth. It was because he was on the outside looking in.

He wanted to be in the bed WITH them. His dick knew it, even if his brain didn't.

"Harder, Spike. Please!" He heard Buffy plead. He looked at her again, how she was craning her neck to see Spike and trying to slam her hips back at the same time. Spike just smiled at her, the arrogant edge sending another thrill through Xander.

"What's that pet?" he purred, slamming hard against her. The smack of their bodies echoed loudly through the air.

"Please." she moaned, rising up on her hands for more leverage. "Harder!"

"Like this?" Another loud slap followed the hard thrust of Spike's hips.

"GOD yes." she breathed, her voice guttural. Ecstasy twisted her face, making her more beautiful than Xander could ever remember seeing her. Then, he looked at Spike and realized that there was beauty there as well. The realization staggered him.

"Cor, Buffy. So tight. So hot!" Spike murmured, curving his body against her back, his hands sliding over her skin. One buried itself between her thighs, his clever fingers gliding over her clit, making her whimper. The other hand curved around her breast, massaging the soft mound in time with his strokes. Their bodies slammed together harder, faster, the flurry of motion making Xander dizzy.

Within seconds, Buffy screamed high and long, her tiny, muscular form going slack with her release. The brunette's erection was throbbing painfully in his pants by then, his mouth as dry as dust. He could almost feel her slack mouth-hot and wet-around his cock. Spike's growl drew his attention away from the Slayer. He thrust hard into Buffy, his face morphing with his pleasure. It occurred to Xander that he didn't know if Spike did that when they were together, mainly because he refused to look at him. It struck him that he was missing out on something breathtaking. So was Buffy. She hung limp in Spike's arms, her eyes closed as the blond emptied his seed deep into her body. Then, they collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, her ragged breaths and Spike's purrs the only sounds.

"I love you." Spike gasped after several minutes, the words coated with desperation.

"Don't say that." Buffy answered, her tone curt. Inexplicably, Xander's heart constricted in his chest at her denial.

"Why not? 'S the truth." Hurt was written all over his face as she stood up and started looking for her clothes, unaware of their audience. The brunette found himself less inclined to look at the fully nude body of his fantasies, and more inclined to study Spike as he watched her dress. His face was so raw, so grief stricken, that Xander felt something inside snap.

"This is just what it is. Sex. I can't love you." It sounded hollow, even to Xander. And he didn't miss the hint of regret in her voice. Apparently, Spike didn't either.

"Can't, or won't?"

"It doesn't matter." Buffy shot back, angrily pulling her clothes on.

"Yes it does." Spike snapped, pushing to his feet to grab her arm. She glared up at him and jerked out of his grip. "You come to me, Buffy. That means something."

"Spike, stop. Take it for what it is. I've got to go."

"Yeah, that's right. Run off with your virtue all a flutter," he said bitterly, snatching a half empty bottle of booze off the table. "Run back to your farce of a life until the next time you get an urge to feel something other than empty. What are you going to do, if the next time you show up, I'm not here?" His voice had turned thoughtful as he spoke, before he shrugged and took a deep pull on the bottle. He missed the look of blind panic that crossed her face. Xander didn't, because he felt it too. He didn't care to dwell on why the thought of Spike leaving made him nauseous. So, instead, he made sure he was firmly ensconced in the shadows to watch the rest of the scene play out.

Maybe this was why they never talked, he found himself thinking. So denial and hurt could never enter into it. If they didn't talk, they could pretend it had never happened and move about their lives, walls firmly intact. But, as he watched them and could feel their pain, he also felt those walls start to crumble.

"Whatever, Spike." Buffy huffed, effectively covering up how upset the thought of him leaving made her with bored disdain. "I don't have time for this." She sat down on the edge of the bed to put her shoes on, her cold stance making Xander burn with anger. Or, maybe, it was the look of desolation that filled Spike's face as he watched her go, his nude form slumped in defeat. The brunette didn't like the way those normally proud shoulders were weighted with grief.

Buffy didn't see Xander as she stormed out, to intent on escaping her secret shame to notice him hiding in the shadows. Spike continued to stand there, bottle clutched in his fist, silent tears tracking down his cheeks. Watching him, so caught up in the pain that her leaving caused that he didn't even feel the extra presence in his room, something inside of Xander broke. Not knowing exactly what he was going to do, he stepped out of his hiding place.

Spike reared back as if slapped when he saw him. Humiliation, anger and want warred on his face in a beautiful tapestry of emotion. They stared at each other for along time, neither speaking, both trying to come to terms with the fact that the brunette had been spying.

"Enjoy the show, whelp? Suppose you came to get your daily dose of cold comfort as well." Spike snapped bitterly when he found his voice. When Xander didn't move or respond, the blond snorted in disgust. "What wrong, then? Your sainted Slayer's image shattered for you now? Didn't consider you weren't the only one getting to play 'fuck and run' with me, did you?"

"Shut up, Spike." Xander said, his voice tired. He started towards the blond, finding that he wanted to wipe that look of self loathing off the vampire's face. Unaware of his intent, Spike scowled at Xander's words.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. We're not supposed to talk, are we? Makes it easier for you to run back to the demon bird. Well, spare me. 'M not in the mood." Xander didn't answer, just kept moving toward him until he was less than a foot in front of him. He was now close enough to see the tears clinging to the sooty lashes that surrounded eyes as blue as any sea. He may have had no soul, but he did have heart. A heart that was currently shattered. Xander could see it in the clear, cerulean orbs that were watching him with wary anger. How could have missed it before.

Because you didn't want to know, his brain told him. In that moment, Xander allowed himself the ugly truth of those words. He hadn't wanted to see that the vampire could feel, every bit as much as they could, because it would have meant that he would have had to face some ugly truths about himself. Instead, he allowed himself to be blinded by his preconceived notions. But, the blinders were off now and Xander took a long look at the person that he-and Buffy-had been using as a balm for his own fucked up soul. Spike was every bit as broken, tattered and torn as they were. More so, since he was the brunt of their self hatred and insecurities. Xander realized then, that being soulless didn't save the vampire from pain. If anything, it ensured it.

"What the hell are you staring at?" Spike snarled. He was growing uncomfortable under the brunette's silent scrutiny. Xander could feel it. Again, he didn answer. Instead, he did something he had never done to Spike before. He closed the distance between them, leaned down and brushed his lips across the blondes.

When he looked up again, Spike's eyes were wide with shock and suspicion. He let the bottle go when Xander pulled it from his fingers. He was still staring, his expression frozen while the brunette put the bottle down then shrugged out of his jacket and flannel shirt. Next, the brunette kicked off his boots and pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing the expanse of well muscled chest. Once he was down to just his jeans, Xander turned back to Spike who still hadn't snapped out of his surprise.

The first time they had been together, it had been no better than rape. Xander had been pissed off-why he couldn't remember-and had come to Spike to take it out on him for awhile. The blonde hadn't been able to defend himself, thanks to the chip. So, when he had found himself bent over the sarcophagus, his jeans around his knees and Xander's cock in his ass, he'd only had the choice of taking it. But, Xander was determined to wipe that memory, and the memory of Buffy's most recent rejection, from his mind. He couldn't explain the need to comfort that was filling him as he stared back at Spike. He also found that he didn't want to.

Slowly, and with great care, Xander reached out to touch Spike's face. With a gentleness that he'd never shown anyone-not even Anya-he glided the pads of his work-roughened fingertips over the sharp planes, memorizing every line by touch. When he ran his thumb over the trisected dark brow, Spike seemed to snap out of his stupor.

"Hey now, what are you about?" Distrust coated each word and he eyed Xander like a dog waiting to be kicked. The brunette pressed a finger against Spike's soft, cool lips to shush him.

"Remember, no words," he whispered, before replacing his finger with his lips. The vampire stood rigid, afraid to relax. Xander ignored it, instead, pleasing himself with gently nibbling and licking the full mouth under his. He delighted the way the skin warmed with his touch. When he pulled Spike's bottom lip in to suck, savoring the taste of whiskey that still clung to it, the blonde gasped. The sound cause the human's skin to tingle. He felt the shudder that wracked through Spike when the tip of his tongue darted between the vampire's newly parted lips. He pulled back far enough to look at Spike, arousal and pride slamming into him at the blatant flare of desire and vulnerability on the other man's face.

This time was different. Spike could sense it. He didn't understand why and he didn't know how to react. So, he merely followed when Xander took his hand and led him to the bed, then allowed the brunette to lay him back on the sheets he had just shared with Buffy. Her scent was still clinging to the sheets, wafting up to mix with heady musk of Xander's arousal. The combined essence of his two loves made him shiver with need.

Once Spike was laying on the bed, and he was sure he wasn't going to move, Xander wandered around the room. He lit a few more candles until he was satisfied that he would be able to see the vampire's face clearly. Then, he returned to the bed, sliding his jeans off and exposing the last of his flesh to the blondes' hungry gaze. This was another line crossed. They never looked at each other, never took their clothes fully off. This was new for them and Xander felt a moments apprehension.

But then, he fully took in the beautiful creature on the bed and his fear dissipated. Spike's body was pale, lean and chiseled, a perfect compliment to his darker, larger frame. Hours of construction work had honed Xander's muscles, dispelling the last the weight he had carried for the last few years. He felt another surge of pride as Spike looked him over, a fierce hunger flaring in his blue eyes. Xander himself, took his time drinking in the strong lines and smooth muscle of the vampire. He felt his mouth practically start to water at the sight of Spike's half erect penis, the need to taste urging him to rush. However, he forced his control. There had been more than enough lack of control here lately.

Spike stared openly at him, the heat of the stare flaming the fire in his blood. The mattress dipped when he placed a knee on it. Their eyes never broke contact as Xander crawled up the bed, looking every inch the predator Spike was. Once he was level with the blonde's head, he let his gaze wander all over his face. He couldn't get enough of looking at him now that he was really seeing him. It was intoxicating. But then, because he couldn't take not touching the beauty beneath him any longer, Xander dipped his head. This time, when his warm mouth closed over Spike's cool one and his tongue sought entrance, it was allowed. Dual groans filled the air at the first brush of their tongues.

The kiss was slow and languid with a keen, sharp edge of desire. When Xander felt the hand on the back of his neck and the fingers lacing through his hair, he gave in to the hunger. The lazy dance quickly turned frenzied, the easy exploration, ravenous. Darts of pleasure sang from the point of contact throughout their bodies, pulsing through their blood in a fiery rush. With a great sense of loss, Xander pulled back to breathe, which he was loath to do, even though he merely moved from those delectable lips to the line of Spike's jaw to nip gently at the skin there.

Spike's breathing was just as ragged as Xander's, no matter that he didn't need to breath. The warmth of the mouth tasting his skin set him on fire. The heat of the tongue tracing each of his ribs threatened to make him combust. When he felt the gentle pull of teeth on his nipple, Spike arched into it, his eyes staring adoringly at the dark head working this magic on his flesh. He didn't know what had brought about the change in Xander. But after Buffy's hasty-as-usual-retreat, this was just what he needed. Maybe the brunette sensed that and-for once-decided to care. Then, Spike found, when that clever tongue tickled his hip bone, that he didn't care why. He was just glad it was happening.

Xander reveled in the taste of the skin under his lips. So different than Anya's, but no less delicious. The taste, the texture, the smell-each sensation swirled around his brain, wrapping him tighter in the web of passion. His erection brushed against Spike's firm thigh, the coolness of the skin hardening him further. Spike moaned and writhed beneath him, urging him further with each gasp of his name. He was close enough to smell the combined scents of the vampire and the Slayer, the mix enticing him closer to the thick shaft angled on Spike's stomach.

"Oh shit." Spike rasped at the first swipe of Xander's tongue across his rigid flesh. He threw his head back into the bed, thinking he might go insane from the pleasure. Xander took his time tracing the veins and head of his cock, experimenting with pressure and technique. He took his cues from Spike's reactions. A sense of power rose in him with the knowledge he could make the vampire pant with want. Spike shot nearly off the bed when Xander's lips surrounded him, burning him with the heat of his mouth. He raised his head then, to watch the brunette swallow his cock, the erotic image forever burned into his brain.

Xander slid the thick shaft into his mouth, sucking hard on his up strokes, encouraged by the soft growls Spike was emitting from deep in his chest. Spike fought to keep his hips still, so he didn't gag the brunette, knowing this was his first time doing something like this. Not that he would have been able to tell. The human was licking and sucking him like he was an ice cream, the most delicious thing he had ever had. Too soon, Spike felt the pressure build. With a roar, he started to fuck the mouth on his cock, forgetting his resolve not to move. Xander eagerly kept the pace, sliding his tongue around the head and tasting the saltiness seeping there. When the vampire went rigid, his eyes shot up to his face, the ridges that formed making him suck even harder. Their eyes locked when the first shots of salty fluid spilled into his mouth. Xander swallowed greedily, not repulsed in the least. Spike twitched under him, watching the brunette swallow everything. He collapsed in exhausted bliss, heaving in great gulps of air. He felt Xander pull away, hating the loss of heat around his softening shaft. His eyes drifted closed as he felt the brunette slide off the bed. He listened as the other man walked around the room, searching for something.

He opened them again when he felt Xander's hand on his ankle. What he saw had his cock springing back to life. The man was standing at the edge of the bed, the tube of lube in one hand, the other wrapped around his painful looking erection. When he tugged on the vampire's ankle, the blond slid willingly to the edge of the bed. When he started to turn onto his knees, confusion crossed his face when Xander shook his head. A groan replaced his confusion when Xander pushed one, long, slick digit into his anus, working the lube around in an erotic massage. His hips thrust in time with the ministrations, trying to push the finger deeper. He growled in protest when the finger slipped out, only to gasp when he felt it replaced with the tip of Xander's cock. This was also new. Before, the only lubricant they had, was Spike's own blood. But that didn't matter now. Not when Xander was standing over him, his eyes hot with want, his face contorted with his forced control.

Xander leaned over him, not allowing the penetration both of them so desperately wanted. He stayed, poised at Spike's entrance, until he had hooked the vampire's legs around his arms and braced his hands on the bed. Only then, when he was opened up fully, did Xander start to push. Spike nearly sobbed with the pleasure of being filled. It had never been like this between them. Always brutal, always rushed, this new sensation was what he imagined heaven must be like. He felt cherished. Something he had never felt before.

Xander was sure that he had died. Because there was no way that anything on Earth could feel this good. The contrast of Spike's cool body encasing his hot flesh was the best thing he had ever felt. It cooled and heated him at the same time. He was so tight, encasing him better than a glove. Their eyes never left each other until he was fully inside. Spike's hands ran restlessly up the brunette's arms and over his face and hair. His hips twitched, urging Xander to take him. It was only a minute later that the man's control snapped. With long, hard thrusts, he moved over Spike. He twisted his hips, again using Spike's growls and groans as indicator's for what felt best to him. There was no way he was going to hold out long, but he wanted it to be as pleasurable as possible for the blonde.

Each thrust pushed him deeper into the willing body beneath him, driving him closer to the edge. Faster he pushed, harder. Spike rose to meet him, ecstasy twisting his face into a mask of bliss. Their mouths came together then, tongues battling hungrily in time with each slap of their bodies. Over and over he drove into the blonde, racing towards the release that hovered on the horizon. Growls, moans and cries were lost in each other's mouths, just as they were lost in the feel of their joining. With a howl, Xander tore away from Spike's mouth, slamming hard into him as his climax smashed through him. His vision blacked and his breathing hitched in his throat, making him think he was going to pass out. He collapsed onto Spike, vaguely noticing the sticky evidence of the blondes' own release on their skin.

Once his breathing calmed, he pulled out of Spike and rested on his side. When Spike opened his mouth to say something, he was again shushed by a gentle finger. Instead, Xander pulled him close, kissed his forehead and closed his eyes. Spike ignored the tears slipping from his eyes as he looked at the brunette. He didn't know what had changed between them, but he knew they could never go back. They had crossed some bridge just then. Now, if he could just get Buffy to do the same thing, his unlife would be perfect.

Pushing that thought aside, he decided to be thankful for what he got. With a sigh, he shifted closer to the sleeping brunette and allowed the steady beat of his heart to pull him into sleep.

With a gasping sob, Buffy stepped out of her hiding place by the stairs. Her eyes were riveted to the two men on the bed, the beauty of what had just transpired between them imprinted in her mind forever. That was how it was supposed to be. How it could be, if she would just let it. Wiping her tears away, she picked up her forgotten jacket and left quietly, not wanting to disturb them. The two sleeping on the bed never noticed her presence, or heard the crypt door close quietly upstairs.

The End