A/N: I do not own these characters.
NOTICE! To all spander lovers, this story is being reposted, since once banned. It mostly will be again. Please, if you know of a site that upadtes still and will take this story, PM me. Thank you.
When the phone calls started, I was just walking in from patrol. The shrill sound of the phone began.
"Hello? This is really lane." I said into the receiver. Then I heard it. The other person sighed, long and soft. Something about it made me swallow hard.
"Is this supposed to be some kind of obscene phone call?" I asked around the lump in my throat.
There was silence for thirty seconds and then the person finally spoke.
"Do you want it to be?" The voice was low and deep; a man's voice. "I can make it…obscene."
Feeling heat awaken in my stomach and groin, I sucked in a breath, hazy with desire. That rich voice stirred something inside me I'd never felt before.
He let out a low chuckle and said, "Like that, yeah? I can make you one happy boy. Just lay back and listen for a while."
I found myself obeying before all the words were out of his mouth.
"Close your eyes and imagine I'm there. Can you feel my hands on you? Rubbing your thighs and your tight stomach?" The voice purred.
I moaned loudly, not believing what I was doing. What the hell was I doing?
I quickly slammed the phone onto the receiver. It immediately rang again. Picking it up, I immediately hung up again, this time taking it off the hook afterwards.
Who the hell would call me like that? Larry? No, it definitely didn't sound like him. And why didn't I just hand up in the first place? I mean, hello, so not gay!
I sat with the phone off the receiver, just staring at it. After a while, I heard a voice behind me. When did he come in?
"Phone works a lot better when it's on the hook, mate." Spike said.
Blushing lightly, I tried to make up a plausible excuse.
"Um… Anya! She keeps, um, calling me for sex, so…I took the phone off the hook. I'm too tired from slaying, you know." I laughed pitifully.
"Whatever." Spike said, taking a spot on the chair I used to tie him to when he first moved in.
Cringing as I moved, I slowly hung the phone back up. When it didn't start ringing, I let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Well, um, I'm going to bed." I told spike.
"And I would care because?" He mumbled, already half-asleep.
I just sighed again and climbed into bed. Of course he didn't care; he hated me. He hated living here. And I hated him back. Just…maybe not so much lately; I guess I was just getting used to having him around.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep.
Four days had gone by and the mysterious voice hadn't called again. It made sense; it was probably a wrong number to begin with. And by hanging up, I'd made it perfectly clear that I'd wanted nothing to do with him.
And I didn't.
I'm not gay, so phone sex with a mysterious man doesn't appeal to me. Not in the slightest.
Why hasn't he called?
A week… A week had gone by. Still nothing, which was good because I didn't want to hear from some pervert anyway.
So why was I obsessing over this?
I had finally drifted off to sleep and was dreaming of my ex-teacher, the Praying Mantis lady when I heard the phone ring.
'Great, another apocalypse,' I thought to myself.
Feeling blindly for the phone, I grasped the phone, and mumbled, "Hello?"
"Miss me? "Came the voice I'd been wanting to hear all week, that low deep voice with a slight accent that I couldn't get out of my head.
I felt the air instantly whoosh out of my lungs and became instantly awake.
I stayed silent, trying to think of something to say.
Seconds ticked by before the man spoke, "Don't want to talk? I guess I'll go then."
"No!" I shouted. "I … I mean, don't go."
The man spoke again, "Afraid I won't call again, are you?"
"I'm not gay!" I blurted out.
"Neither am I." The guy snorted.
I felt my jaw drop open and I blinked a few times before responding. "But…but you keep calling me and talking dirty to me. What do you mean you're not gay?"
"Not everything is as black and white as you and your friends think." He replied.
"My… My friends…?" I stuttered.
Great, he was a crazy stalker. Just what I needed to complete my list of fucked up romances.
"Yeah, your friends. The Slayer and her groupies." He answered.
"Slayer, what's a Slayer?" I squeaked.
"Yeah, that was convincing, Xander. I live here in Sunnydale, too. I know all about the nasties. I know you fight 'em. And I know you can hold your own even though your friends think you're a klutz. Saw you last night taking out three vamps at once, I did. It turned me on something fierce." He responded.
All alarms should have rang after everything he had said. I mean, he knew my name and he'd seen me fight. But do you want to know what came out of my mouth?
"I turn you on? Like seriously?" I asked, astonished.
"Damn right you did, that dark hair of your tousling around, those hard muscles straining with effort, the look in your eyes as they burst into dust. Turns you on when you dust 'em, doesn't it? It makes you all hot and bothered." The man spoke.
"Who are you?" I breathed.
That was the question I should have asked in the first place.
"My name's Will." The voice responded.
Will. Great. That summed that whole thing up.
"I mean, who are you? How are you able to see my eyes when I fight, when I haven't seen you? How do you know all kinds of stuff about me, and I don't even know who you are?" I asked.
"When no one really gives a damn about you, you tend to go unnoticed. I give a damn about you, so I watch you a lot. I know everything about you. And no, I'm not a stalker." Will replied.
"Oh yeah, you're definitely not a stalker. You just watch me a lot." Are you watching me right now?" I asked, mostly joking.
"Maybe I am." Will sing-songed.
"Wait, what? Are you really watching me? Because, if you are, that's really creepy." I spoke, a little wigged out. I glanced around the room, then out my window. All I could see was black night, which didn't really set me at ease. I also noted that Spike wasn't here, which was good because I totally didn't needed him to here this conversation; but, bad in case this Will guy decided to show up and kill me or something.
Will laughed. "Maybe I am and maybe I'm not. 'Sides, it can be more fun if you think I am."
"How do you figure that? I asked, as I once again glanced out the dark window.
"Well, a lot of people find it hot having someone watch them engage in erotic activities. I know I do." Will spoke, his voice husky.
I gulped, "You… You do?"
"Oh, yeah. I don't think there's a more arousing thing in the world than having someone get turned on just by watching what I'm doing. Why don't you act as if I'm watching you, somewhere hidden in the shadows? Walk to your window, Xan. Show me that hard body of yours." Will spoke slowly, his breath growing deeper.
My mouth went dry as Will spoke. I obeyed, rose from my bed and walked towards the window. "I'm there."
"Hmm, I can see you, love, standing there in your boxers with that glazed look on your face, biting your lip." He sighed.
My eyes grew wide and I released my lip from between my teeth. "You really are watching me, aren't you?"
Will chuckled, "Take your boxers off, Xan, I want to watch you give yourself pleasure."
My breath catching in my throat, I silently did as I was told.
"God, you look beautiful. Close your eyes, Xan, and touch yourself while I talk to you, love. Imagine it's me that's touching you. My rough hands are on your soft skin, caressing your rock hard cock." Will breathed.
I let out a long, drawn out moan as images of Spike flitted through my mind. I didn't know what my admirer looked like, but I could dream that this man looked as good as the blond vampire.
"That's it, lose yourself, love. Let me take you over. Can you feel me, Xan? Can you feel my mouth around your cock, my breath ghosting over your skin, my tongue tasting you? You taste like chocolate, don't you, Xan? You smell like you taste like chocolate. Chocolate and spice, and… the sun; you taste like the sun." Will groaned low in his throat, his breaths coming quicker.
"Oh, god. I want to see you, Will. Can I see you?" I gasped, feeling lightheaded, as I stroked my cock faster.
"Oh, love, you're not ready for that yet. I've barely gotten under your skin. For now, just listen, yeah? Soon you'll see me and I'll do every one of these things to you. You'll be screaming my name, begging me for more. God, I want to touch you, Xan. I want to make you come. I want to drink every hot drop of come I can suck from you cock." Will replied.
His smooth voice and the images his words conjured up were just too much. I gasped am my hips bucked furiously into my hand, seeing stars as the white hot heat shot from my body.
Distantly, I heard Will growl, moan and gasp as he came.
'He came from watching me and wanting me. Has anyone ever wanted me so much?' I thought, as my senses slowly returned to normal.
"God, Will, that was amazing." I whispered, starting to feel self-conscious again.
I moved to the bathroom and cleaned up, still clutching the phone, the cord stretched to maximum capacity.
"Fuckin' right, it was," Will panted. "Well, I should probably go and let you compose yourself before that vampire you live with comes home."
Spike! I'd completely forgotten about him coming home. Christ, what would he think if he found me talking to a man on the phone in the middle of the night? I could never even hide it from him, what with his freaky vamp ears.
I sighed, feeling disappointment, "I guess you're right. I'd never hear the end of it if he walked in. Will you… I mean, are you going to…call me again?"
Will was silent for a minute, before he asked, "Do you want me to?"
I thought about it. Did I want him to? Did I really want to admit to myself that I might not be as sharp an arrow as I wanted to be?
"Yeah, yeah I do." I whispered.
"Then I will, love. Talk to you soon, Xan." Will replied just as quietly.
I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding and relief washed through me. "Don't wait a whole week this time, okay?"
Chuckling deep, he replied, "Alright, I won't. Goodnight, Xander. Dream of me."
Then I heard the click and listened to the silence a second before moving out of the bathroom and hanging up the phone.
I trotted over to my boxers and bent to pick them up.
"Full moon tonight, is it?" Spike's voice greeted me from behind.
I whirled around and shouted, "Jesus, Spike! Stop sneaking up on me! You scared the hell out of me."
Spike just stood staring silently at my naked form, before snapping his eyes back up to my faced and saying, "What'd you expect? I'm evil."
I slipped my boxers on and stared at him quizzically, "Did you just check me out?"
"What? No! You're daffy, you know that?" He replied, turning from me and going to sit in front of the TV.
I padded silently to my bed and laid down.
Well, there's no more point in denying to myself that I'm attracted to Spike. Since, Angel first offered me up to him on a silver platter; I hadn't been able to get him out of my dreams or out of my head. That was why I always tried to keep him away, to make him hate me. It was easier to deal with hate than the thought of hot gay monkey sex with a vampire.
And now there was Will, so I basically have to stop lying to myself. I like guys. I like…guys. There, I've said it; or thought it as the case may be. I mean I like girls, too; but, Anya just doesn't compare to my dream Spike or this weird thing with Will.
The taste of copper pennies filled my mouth and I realized I'd been chewing my lip. I lightly pressed my fingers to my lips, and then brought my fingers up to eye level. Damn, I knew it was bleeding. I signed, shrugged, and licked my fingers off.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Spike breathed, staring at me with dark eyes.
I slipped my fingers out of my mouth. "Sorry, I bit my lit."
"Well, bloody fix it already." He spoke, hoarsely.
Spike jumped up and walked into the bathroom, banging the door shut behind him.
I rolled my eyes, and then walked to the kitchen for a paper towel.
What crawled up his ass tonight?
I pressed the towel against my lip until the blood clotted and then tossed it into the garbage before I crawled back into bed.
I lay naked in bed, panting, coming down from a phone session with Will. We'd been talking for a week straight, every night at twelve. Thankfully, Spike had become more of a night owl than usual.
Beads of sweat slowly trickled down my chest as I spoke into the phone, "I want to meet you, Will. Please can I meet you?"
"Can't, love, I don't want to scare you off just yet." Will whispered, his words coming in gasps.
"You won't scare me off. Please, Will, I promise. I mean, it's not like you have ten legs and horns, right? You don't, do you?' I said with a laugh.
His deep sigh came over the line. "No, love, nothing like that. I just don't think you'll consider me the man of your dreams, is all. Soon, though, Xan. I don't think I can hide from you much longer."
Chewing on my lower lip, I built up my courage and asked, "So, is this like, just about sex to you? Because that's okay, I was just curious, you know?"
Will was silent and I thought maybe he hadn't heard me.
Finally, he said quietly, "No, it's not. Does that bother you?"
I replied with a "no" because honestly it didn't bother me. Actually it was kind of nice thinking that someone liked me enough to stalk me. Man, Sunnydale sure has a way of changing your definition of normal.
I stood up and retrieved my boxers, sliding them over my feet and pulling them up, while stumbling towards Spike's stack of CDs. I'd been secretly listening to them ever since he moved in; but, I didn't want him to know. It was more fun to make him think I hated his taste in music.
I chose a Sex Pistols CD and slipped it into the stereo, keeping the volume low. "God Save The Queen" immediately started playing and I hummed a few bars.
"What's that you got on?" Will asked.
"Oh, it's just one of my roommate Spike's CDS, the Sex Pistols." I answered.
"You don't say. So, do I have anything to worry about with this Spike guy?" He asked.
Laughing bitterly, I answered, "Spike as competition? No way! He hates me. He'd rather see me dead than date me."
"He doesn't seem like he hates you. He seems kind of like a kid who throws a rock at his crush to me." Will replied.
"Spike having a crush on me? I don't think Spike even knows what a crush is. He just likes to inflict torture on me. Sometimes…Sometimes I just wish he'd quit it and actually talk to me, instead of acting like a snarky jerk all the time." I replied.
This thread of conversation was really making me depressed. Johnny Rotten screeched in the background and all it did was remind me of Spike even more.
I sighed and switched the radio back off before telling Will that I should go.
Afterwards, I lay in bed thinking of Spike and Will. I liked Spike a lot, but I knew nothing would ever come of it. And then there was Will, mysterious Will, who would blow my mind on the phone, but refused to let me meet him. I had no idea where that was going, but I was sure it had more potential than lusting after Spike. So, why couldn't I stop thinking about Spike?
I waited in bed until the sun came up, and then finally succumbed to sleep. Spike didn't come home.
Two nights had gone by and Spike was still missing. Nobody seemed to care much except Tara and me. She actually seemed genuinely concerned.
It had also been two nights since I'd heard from Will. I kept going through our last conversation in my mind, wondering if I'd said something wrong.
I hadn't been able to sleep since both men had disappeared. I lay awake all night, tossing and turning. During the day I was exhausted and my nerves seemed to be shot. Little things would startle me and I couldn't concentrate. I just kept wondering if the Hellmouth had claimed Spike or Will.
On the third night, I managed to fall asleep at eleven o'clock, but was awoken two hours later by the sound of my door banging shut.
I shot up in bed and looked around wildly, my eyes finally landing on Spike stumbling away from the entrance.
"What the hell are you doing?" I half shouted.
He walked over to me and the smell of whisky permeated the air.
"I don't hate you." He slurred.
Shaking my head in confusion, I asked, "What?"
"I don't hate you. I never hated you." Spike slurred in a whisper.
I scrubbed my face with my hands and said, "How much have you drunk tonight, Spike?"
"Not enough." He said, his voice hoarse.
Spike's calloused hands moved up and cupped my face, his rough fingers sliding over my skin.
His blue eyes peered into mine as he said, "God you always smell like chocolate; chocolate and the sun."
"What did just say?" I whispered, my body suddenly feeling cold and hollow.
I slapped at Spike's hands and jumped up from my bed, shuffling back several feet.
"Xan, love…" Spike spoke, his voice quaking with fear.
"It was you? This whole time, it was all a lie." I whispered, stunned.
"No! Everything I said was true! I meant everything!" Spike shouted.
Something inside me finally snapped, deadened.
Numb, I said, "Get out."
Spike's jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost have thought he was afraid.
"Xander, please, just listen, okay?" The words spilled from his mouth.
"I said, get out. Get the hell out of my house, Spike! And so help me, if you come anywhere near me I will stake you. Now go." I said, shutting him out, shutting him out of my life and out of my mind.
I turned away and walked into my bathroom. I turned the tub on and watched as it filled with scorching water. I was vaguely aware of a bang in the other room and I knew that he was gone. I shed my clothes and slid my naked body into the water, letting it envelope me in its warm waves.
To my friends I was still the same old Xander: clutzy, boring errand boy.
But inside, I was dead.
I'd go to work, patrol, go home and literally stare at my ceiling. I didn't watch TV, listen to the radio; hell, I didn't even think. I was just Xander, The Amazing Walking Corpse.
I guess Spike was right. When no one cares about you, you go unnoticed.
Only Tara seemed to have noticed that Spike was still MIA.
"Are you sure you don't remember Spike saying anything about leaving, Xander?" She'd asked me a week after Spike stopped coming around.
"Nope, didn't say a word." I said, quickly walking away.
Another week passed and she cornered me in the storage room of The Magic Box.
"I've found him, Xander. He doesn't look good." Tara spoke in her quiet voice.
My heart skipped a beat and I said with a laugh, "Yeah? When does he?"
"Xander! I know you care about him so quit playing games. I know he did something to make you mad; but, he won't tell me what. But you need to get off your high horse and help him because I think you're the only one who can!" With that she turned and huffed away, anger boiling quietly under her skin.
Whatever Spike's problems were, they were just that: Spike's. Besides, he was over a hundred years old; shouldn't he know how to take care of himself by now?
"Wait! Where is he? I said, my voice escaping me.
Turning slowly, Tara sighed and said, "He's in a crypt in Restmoore Cemetery. It's got a huge angel on top; you can't miss it. And Xander… Hurry."
How bad could it really be? He's a vampire, not a moron. Tara's probably just exaggerating. So, why the fuck am I walking through this cemetery looking for him?
After walking for a good 15 minutes, I'd finally come across a crypt matching Tara's description.
Pausing at the door, I took a deep breath and walked into the mausoleum. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I took notice of my surroundings.
Cigarette butts and empty whisky bottles lay scattered at my feet and a ratty blanket lay in a corner of the room. I stepped into the room and caught sight of movement coming from under the blanket.
"Spike?" I called in a soft voice, my hand lightly touching my back pocket, feeling the hard piece of wood through the denim of my jeans.
Whatever was under the blanket gave a low groan.
Slowly, I crept to the corner and pulled back the blanket. I gasped and stumbled backwards, reeling from the sight of Spike. His frame was thinner, his skin was ashen gray, and his roots were beginning to show. The black T-shirt and jeans that normally clung to his body now hung loose and baggy.
"Jesus, Spike, haven't you been eating?" I shouted, feeling the beginnings of hysteria.
Dim blue eyes seared into mine and he whispered, "I told her not to tell you."
"Oh course she'd tell me! Look at you; you look like you're dying!" I screamed.
"I can't die. I'm already dead, remember?" He said with a self-deprecating smile, then rolled to face the wall.
"Why are you doing this? This isn't the Spike that I know. My Spike wouldn't torture himself by not feeding; hell, the Spike I know wouldn't have given up this easy on me." I said, my voice trembling.
"I guess you don't know me as well as you think you do." Spike said quietly.
"I'm not letting you do this. Drink." I commanded, thrusting my arm towards the blonde's face.
The vampire turned over and stared wearily at my wrist and my eyes. "No."
"Look, you're either going to bite me and drink or I'm going to cut my wrist open and force it down your throat. You decide." I said as I pushed my wrist closer to his mouth.
"I can't; it's too dangerous." He said, his voice cracking, his eyes burning with need.
"Come on, Spike, you know you want to. All that hot sweet blood is just waiting for you. What do you think it tastes like, Spike? Do you think my blood will taste like everyone else's? Or do you think I'll taste like chocolate? Maybe I'll taste like the sun?" I said, my voice growing deeper as the words spilled out.
I gasped as Spike's left hand encircled my wrist and his right hand entwined with mine.. His blue eyes locked on to mine, searching me for any doubts.
"I want you to, Spike." I whispered.
His lips descended onto my wrist, his eyes never leaving mine, and he tentatively kissed my skin. My body went electric at his touch.
Spike gingerly slipped his fangs into my flesh, setting off a sweet burn in my veins. I moaned and let my head roll forward from the sheer pleasure of my blood slowly being drawn out of my body. Never had I imagined a vampire's bite could feel so good. Pleasure seemed to come in waves for an eternity before I finally felt the release of Spike's fangs.
I groaned in disappointment and felt his mouth latch onto mine. I could taste the coppery heat of my blood on his tongue. With my free hand, I pulled Spike closer and plunged deeper into the kiss. Tongues dueling, I managed to snake my hand under his shirt and caress the icy planes of his hard chest.
His body shuddered at my touch and he moaned into my mouth.
Pulling back, I gasped, "I want you."
Spike froze instantly and whispered, "No, you don't. You hate me."
"I don't hate you, Spike. I'm mad at you; big difference." I breathed, placing his hand on myh jeans, right on my thick, throbbing cock.
A low growl erupted from his chest and his muscles strained with tension. "Are you going to tell me to bugger off afterwards?"
"Not a chance." I whispered, raggedly.
Spike's mouth claimed mine and suddenly we were naked, his cold body writhing against my hot one. Like fire and ice, he soothed the burning in my blood.
"I want… I want you to…take all of me." I panted.
Slowing his movements, Spike swallowed loudly, "Do you mean it? Do you trust me that much?"
"Yes!" I hissed, feeling his slim fingers slide against my entrance.
He deftly prepared me and then slid inside. My body clenched around him as it adjusted to the new fullness.
Slowly, Spike moved, creating a slow burn in my system that seemed to build in a frantic frenzy.
We were writhing together again, my body slamming against his in animalistic pleasure. Our grunts and groans filled the otherwise silent room. Ice cold hands twisted rhythmically on my aching cock and sweet cold lips sucked on my neck, bringing my blood to a boil.
"God, Spike, I need you to… I need to…" I panted, feeling completely incoherent.
No more words were necessary though, for I felt Spike spill into me and soak my insides. With a cry of my own, I released my seed onto his still twisting hands. He collapsed onto my chest and spread butterfly along my jaw, before rolling to the side of me.
After recovering, I finally asked the question that'd been burning in my head for weeks.
"How'd you do it, anyway, disguising your voice?" I asked.
"I nicked some stuff from The Magic Box." Spike replied.
Rolling my eyes, I mumbled, "Of course."
"Would you have listened to me if I hadn't?" He asked.
"No. You don't exactly have a trustworthy track record." I admitted.
"But you trust me. At least, now you do, right?" He spoke, hesitantly.
I gathered my thoughts before I replied, "Well, yeah, I kind of have to being as you're going to be constantly naked in my bed and all."
A huge smirk spread across Spike's face as he spoke, "I am, am I?"
"Oh, yeah." I said with a laugh. I snuggled closer and laid my head on my vampire's chest.