Chapter 17 –Dysfunctionally Yours
"The hell you do," Spike said, pushing off the fridge door to get away from her. "You don't want me. You want what I do to you."
"Wait. Weren't we having this conversation the other day except you were me and I was you—but without the body swapping?"
"Joke all you like but you'll never get me to believe you feel anything for me. Not after all the times you've called me evil and soulless, except the soulless part is technically true. And I guess I've taken pride in being evil... Dammit , Slayer! Can't take you mucking about with my feelings here. Yeah. I said it. I love you. Satisfied?"
"What is it we're fighting about exactly?" Buffy asked.
"You not having feelings for me."
"Who said I didn't have feelings for you?"
"So you're saying you do?"
"Yes, I'm saying I do have feelings for you, Spike."
That stopped him cold. "We're talking romantic feelings, right? Not 'let's be mates' or 'Might keep you around because you're a damn good fighter' feelings, right?"
"Well, you are a good fighter. But yeah. Romantic-like feelings."
"Bollocks," Spike said.
Buffy laughed, frustrated. "What is it with you? Do you only want me when I don't want you? Or when I want you in spite of myself?"
"Don't know," Spike said. "Never considered the idea of you actually wanting me."
"God, we're screwed up," Buffy said. She sat down on a bench along the wall. "Okay. We've been spending a lot of time together this past month, right?"
Spike nodded.
"And we work together really well."
"Yeah," Spike agreed.
"And in the workplace..."
"Feelings develop?" he asked. "Real feelings?"
"I never thought I'd live to see the day William the Bloody was so unsure of himself. You're usually all sex god-y."
"Yeah?" Spike shifted, pushing his hips out a bit. "Sex god, eh?"
Buffy rolled her eyes and got up. "I can't believe I'm trying to talk you into this." She started toward the door. But before she could get there, Spike was in front of her, holding her arms. He looked into her eyes and nodded questioningly. When she nodded back, his eyes softened and he pulled her against his body.
"This is for real, Buffy," he said softly. "No regrets. No going back."
"No regrets," she said. "You're a good man, Spike. Yeah, the not-having-a-soul thing has me all conflicty now and again. But I've never seen anyone try as hard as you do to overcome that. It's like you're building a soul or something."
He pulled back and she was sure the kiss would come next, but instead he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, burying his face in her hair. She could feel his body shake.
"Spike?" she asked.
He just clutched her harder.
"Spike. Breathing is becoming an issue here."
He loosened his grip and she backed up a little so she could see his face. "Are those? Are those tears?" she asked.
"It's nothing," he said, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Dust."
"No, those are tears. Oh God. I made you cry. That can't be good."
He looked away. "Don't want to go all nancy boy on you, Slayer. Just caught me off guard."
"I didn't mean to embarrass you."
He smiled at her. "Really are fucked up, aren't we?"
"Absolutely," she said.
"Want to kiss you, Buffy."
"What's stopping you?"
He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. And it felt different. For the first time, Buffy let herself really feel what his touch did to her. Her brain didn't fight with her emotions. It was just Buffy kissing Spike. And it was really, really good.
His lips were soft, barely touching hers. But the tingles they caused went all the way to her belly. She reached up to slide her fingers through his hair and draw him closer. He went willingly and the kiss became more demanding, tongues and teeth and bodies pressed hard together.
Buffy pulled her hands away from his head and started unbuttoning her blouse. Spike brushed her fingers aside and undid them himself, kissing each patch of skin he exposed. When her top hung open, he slipped a fingernail under the clasp of her bra and unhooked it. The cups still covered her breasts and he put his mouth over the silk, tonguing a nipple to hardness before releasing it and doing the same to the other. Buffy threw her head back and sagged against the arm he wrapped around her back. He peeled the now wet silk back and sucked her bare nipple, gently pressing it against the roof of his mouth. Buffy squirmed in pleasure.
"Like that, do you?" he breathed against her skin before giving her other breast the same treatment.
"Uhh ," Buffy grunted.
Spike laughed and swept her into his arms. He brought her to the padded sarcophagus and set her down on the puffy coverlet. "Incentive to get a real bed, you are," he said, undoing her pants as she unbuckled his belt.
After she got his jeans undone, she glanced behind her. "This is kinda hard," she said.
"Got something else that's hard." Spike smirked at her.
Buffy punched his shoulder. He staggered a little and gave her a "what?" look. "Quit that," she said.
"Sex can be fun, you know, love," he said, coming close again.
"I know that. Let's just leave the bad punning for the slaying, okay?"
"Right," he said. He leaned down to pull off her boots. "No puns. Just innuendos." He gently pushed her back onto her elbows and had her raise her hips so he could slip her pants and panties down her legs. She kicked them the rest of the way off before sitting up and slipping her hands down the back of his jeans. She felt the tight curves of his ass and squeezed them gently. Spike's eyes closed a bit and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"I like your ass," she said. "So sue me."
"Not interested in legal action right now," he said. She pulled her hand out of his pants to shake a finger at him. He caught it and sucked it into his mouth. Buffy felt waves of heat flow through her.
"Pants off," she said.
"Right," he said, releasing her finger and stepping out of his jeans.
"You're beautiful. You know that, right?" Buffy asked.
Spike looked startled. "You think so?"
"Oh yes," Buffy said, drawing him on top of her. "You're hard in all the right places—don't say it!—but your touch can be so soft."
He braced himself on his forearms and gently touched his mouth to hers. He teased her with light kisses before she lost patience and pulled his head down. Her tongue played with his as the kisses grew deeper and wetter. Buffy felt as if he would swallow her whole. She pulled back for breath and touched his full lower lip. "I love kissing you," she said.
Spike's eyes closed briefly before he attacked her mouth again. Gone was the time for gentleness. She could feel him growing even harder against her leg.
He broke the kiss this time. "Want inside, Buffy. God, I want to be so deep inside you."
Buffy opened her legs. "I want that too," she said. She grabbed his ass, urging him closer. "Come inside me."
He thrust his hips and plunged into her. Buffy caught her breath, ignoring the flash of pain that came before her body adjusted to his size. He watched her face closely, waiting for her to tell him it was okay to move.
"Now," she said seconds later.
His strokes were smooth, her wetness easing the way. He moved his hips just right so the base of his cock rubbed against her clit. Buffy's body jerked slightly at each touch.
"Oh, God, love. Never thought I'd be doing this again with you. I wanted to so badly. Want you so badly..."
Buffy pressed her nails into his back and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hips moved to meet his, making them each gasp as their pelvises met. "So deep," Spike said. He ducked his head to draw her nipple into his mouth. He ran his teeth lightly over the sensitive nub before sucking on it again and Buffy felt each pull right between her legs.
"Spike, I... Oh. I..."
He let her nipple go with a pop and reached his hand between their bodies. His thumb circled her clit as he increased the pace of his thrusts. "Got you, Buffy. Let go," he ground out.
Buffy clenched her vaginal muscles and circled her hips. She was so close. His thumb was doing perfect things to her and she felt the heat build in her face. And then she broke, liquid warmth and pleasure rushing through her body. She shuddered underneath him, hearing little cries, realizing they were coming from her.
Spike kissed her then. "Never seen anything as gorgeous as you when you come," he said against her mouth. "Your lashes do this fluttery thing, your face blushes red all the way down to your breasts." He moved his head to lick a nipple. "These get all hard..."
Buffy slid her feet down the backs of his legs. "My turn to watch your face," she said.
Spike groaned and buried his face in her neck. Buffy moved her shoulder, making him raise his head. "I do," she said. "I want to see you."
"I love you," Spike said. Then he pulled back a bit, as if anticipating a blow.
"I believe you," Buffy said. "And I... Well, I..."
"You don't have to say it, love. Not yet. But someday."
"Someday," she echoed.
He kissed her again and started driving into her. Her body sucked him in and resisted letting him go. He pushed up on his hands to stroke in and out of her fast, entering her as deeply as their combined bodies would let him. Buffy watched him, watched the pain and pleasure fight for dominance in his expression until she felt it—the strong pulses of his orgasm as he emptied inside her. His face went slack. Pleasure won.
His arms were shaking with strain so she pulled him down on top of her and nestled his face into the crook of her neck. She buried one hand in the curls at the back of his head and swept the other soothingly up and down his back.
Buffy waited, but the regret didn't come. Instead, she felt peaceful and very, very sleepy. Spike was still against her. She kissed his forehead and let herself drift off.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
He was watching her when she woke up, his brow creased in concentration.
"What?" she said.
"Was trying to prepare myself for the possible appearance of Evil Morning-After Buffy."
A flash of anger went through her before she noticed how uncertain he looked. Suddenly she understood. He needed proof that she wasn't going to kick him in the head and fly out of here.
"Kiss me," she said. His eyes widened slightly, but he did as she demanded. Buffy put everything she couldn't say into the kiss. When they broke apart, Spike was smiling.
"Morning, love," he said.
"Hi."
"How'd you sleep?"
"Really well, actually." She couldn't keep from touching him. Didn't want to keep from touching him. "What time is it?"
Spike looked around. "Few hours past dawn, I'd say. Do you have somewhere to be?"
"It's Saturday, right?" she asked. "Nope. No place I'd rather be."
"Well then, let's get started on Round Two of the Spike and Buffy Sexual Olympics, shall we?"
"Sounds like a plan," Buffy said. She put a hand to his chest, holding him away from her. "But, you know, we should probably do that—talking thing. Eventually. Like, about us. About breaking the 'us'ness of us to the Scoobies. About the fact that there's no way this thing between us will ever be ice cream and Bing Crosby love songs—"
Spike put his hand over her mouth. "We will. We'll chat it all out, I promise you. I know this thing with you and me, it won't be easy. But just you saying there is an 'us' is enough for me right now."
Buffy smiled under his hand and stuck her tongue out to touch his palm. He "grr" ed and practically pounced on her.
"Never was one for ice cream," he said, making his way down her body. "Much rather lick you."
And Buffy, quite willingly, let him.
END