Enemies with Benefits - The Middle

He's curled up against my side and if I didn't know better, I'd think he was fragile, breakable. He's not. He's stronger than he looks. Stronger than most people think.

Don't tell anyone I said that.

Just because I have a soul, doesn't mean I'm suddenly a pansy-ass. I'm still the Big Bad. I just happen to be snuggling with a carpenter.

Don't mention that to anyone either.

He groans in his sleep and rolls over, layin' on m'chest. He's curled around me now. He'll wake up in a minute and ask to play again. That's the part I'm waiting for. The sexy part is the good part.

And I'm not exactly getting any anywhere else. Neither is her. Hey, I don't consider it settling if the lover is as good as this one is.

I need to stop touting his sexual prowess and get to tasting it.

He's awake. I can tell by all the licking of my chest and scratching at my side. It's a lot like that first time...

******

Sunnydale - 2002

"You want something, Harris?" What else should I ask of the man currently darkening my door.

He skids a shoe over the concrete step, stares at the ground. "Need a place to stay for a while."

"Well you're not staying here." Is he insane?

He nods. "Figured you'd say that." He turns and starts to leave.

Hell. I'm gonna regret this. "Harris," I call to him.

He turns back, eyes still cast down.

"Get the hell in here."

It takes him a while to get inside, but he makes it; he even pushes the door closed. He walks to the center of the room and leans against a column. "Spike, I'm not gonna ask you for anything else, but could you please not tell anyone I'm here?"

That gives me pause. "And why should I do that?"

"I'll pay you. I'l get you warm blood, whatever. I just need to be invisible for a while."

I need to think this over for a minute. I don't usually have houseguests and surely not the extended-stay kind. "How long we talkin'? Couple days? Week?"

He shrugs. "About that. Maybe longer. Just - a while."

"And I'm supposed to do this out of the evilness of my heart?"

He sighs tiredly and rolls his eyes. "I already told you I'd pay you, but if that's not good enough, I'll go find somewhere else." And he actually does that walk toward the door thing. I wasn't sure people actually did that.

Before he gets all the way there: "With what?"

"Huh?" he asks over his shoulder, his face screwed up in confusion.

"With what will you pay me, dear Harris?"

He gives a half-hearted shrug. "I'll come up with something. Money, blood, a new lamp..." Then, suddenly, he's just sittin' there on the steps, head in his hands. And he completely missed the double entendre.

"Hell, if it keeps you from mopin' around, I'll let ya pay me to stay here at Hotel Spike. But I'll warn you, there's only one room, one bed, no dining services and the rates are steep." I light up another cigarette. "Oh and the proprietor's a vampire."

"Yeah, figured all tha-... wait," he lifts his head, "So where am I gonna sleep?"

I shrug and blow smoke into the air. "Extra blankets make the floor comfy."

He gets to his feet, deep frown on his face. "Hey now, I'm the guest here, shouldn't I get the bed?"

I snort. "Did you miss the part where the proprietor's a vampire?" I put a little more emphasis on that last word.

"Right." He shakes his head and sits on the steps again.

This's really got him down. "Harris, if this's got you so depressed, why'd you do it?"

He doesn't even look up at me. "Because it was the right thing to do."

"Mind fillin' me in on what exactly it is you did?"

This time he does lift his head, in shock. "You haven't gotten the latest scoop?"

"I don't follow 'Days of Our Buffy' that closely, Harris."

"Left the wedding a little early," he mutters.

My turn to blink. "How early?"

"Before it started."

My brow creases. "Where was I?"

"I don't know, but I had thoughts and doubts and I couldn't do it. But, seriously, Spike, I'm beat. You got someplace I can cur up and die?"

Now I actually feel bad for the guy. "Yeah. C'mon. You can sleep on the bed. Just don't do anything weird in it."

He frowns up at me, then shakes his head as he gets up and crosses to the hole in the floor. "Much too tired to do anything."

******

I put him to bed, then a couple nights later - after he stopped snarling at me every time he saw me, he asked me something that I didn't figure I would ever hear from him...

******

Sunnydale - 2002

"Spike, I want you to show me something."

"Maybe. What is it?"

He stares at his feet for the duration of the conversation. "Something to do with sex."

"Haven't you and demon-girl explored all those avenues?"

"Probably most of them, but there are a couple she's ill-equipped to attempt."

Is he sayin' what I think he's sayin'? "Are you askin' me to pop your cherry, Harris?"

A few startled blinks and he glares at me. "Already had that taken care of by Faith, thanks."

"Wrong cherry, genius."

"Oh." He gulps and folds his arms around himself. "Well, yeah, I guess that's it then."

"Why you so nervous 'bout askin' me?"

He gives me a look like I'm quite daft. "Pick an option - evil, vampire, hate me... the list goes on."

"Given that list, why're you askin' me at all?"

He shrugs. "You can't hurt me and you won't squeal on me." He gives me a pointed look with that last bit.

I sneer back at him. "Right, like I'd tell anyone I was ever with you sexually." Forget the fact that he's buffed up a bit since I first saw him and that Anya's always on about his sexual prowess.

"Great, so, you gonna do it?"

I shrug and put out my cigarette. "Sure. Nothing else to do."

"Open your eyes, Harris, I'm not gonna hurt you."

He cracks his eyes open and holds his breath for a moment. "Sorry," he says softly, "but your fingers are someplace that... uh..."

I smirk. "Yeah, but if I don't put 'em there, it will hurt. Quit yer bitchin'. When we get to the good part, you won't notice the pain."

His fingers clamp down hard on my shoulders and he clenches his eyes closed again.

"Look, Harris," I snap with a frown, "I know I'm not hurtin' you, so what's with the face?"

I watch him almost visibly relax. "Sorry. Maybe it's anticipation of the hurt?" he says as uncertain as ever.

I sigh and shake my head. "No pain, Harris. None. If I can help it, there won't be any at all. I promise." And I have my reasons for promising.

After that, his face changes and he does relax. His fingers loosen on my shoulders and he nods at me. It's more helpful than he thinks - all that tension was counter productive to all my prep-work.

"Good," I whisper - hey, I'm not all evil, as much as I say I am. Well, that and the boy needs some reassurance.

I withdraw my fingers and clean them off on a towel. I leave over him and whisper, "If ya want me to wear a condom, I will, but it's not necessary."

He swallows hard, like he hadn't even thought of that and shakes his head. "Don't have to."

As soon as his eyes are focused on mine, I press in a little more and watch his face shift from mild anxiety to downright pleasure. Perfect. Now his hands clench at my arms, but it has nothing to do with fear. This is much better.

"Spike," he hisses through his teeth.

"You want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, erratic and quick. "No, please don't."

That's a good sign. I start moving slowly, drawing out and pushing back in - and holy shit, he's tight and warm and it feels so damned good. And I'm so caught up in it all that I forget about everything else - because I have no idea what's going on until I feel myself come and watch him arch in ecstasy as he spills himself over his own chest.

"Oh God," he pants as his body goes limp like a wet noodle. "I think that was the best sex I've ever had."

I grin, letting that feed my ego, even though I figure it's just endorphins and adrenaline talking. I give another rock of my hips just to hear him make that little whimper noise I thought I'd heard earlier.

He whimpers and moans, "Spike, stop."

I lean down and lick his neck. "You really want me to stop?"

"Yes," he whines. "Makin' me crazy!"

Another grin. This is too much fun. "Any chance you'll want to do this," I punctuate 'this' with another rock of my hips, "again?"

He whimpers again and responds with something in the affirmative before he all but passes out from exhaustion. At least he's smilin'.

I pull out and shift over to lay beside him, smoke a cigarette - it really was pretty incredible sex - and maybe, take a little nap.

I wake up to the feel of these little wet marks being made on my chest. Instead of waking up and snarling at him, I let him continue and pretend I'm asleep. That part's harder to do when he's tuggin' on m'nipples with his teeth. He probably realizes that when I moan.

He doesn't look up, doesn't stop, doesn't even say 'good morning' to me, he jus' keeps tuggin' on my nipples and tastin' my chest. And is that his hand on my cock? Why, Xander Harris, have I turned you to the dark side so easily? Point for me.

******

Sunnydale - Present Day

"Play now," he growls at me, scratching over my nipples and rubbing his cock against my hip.

I put on my best Igor voice and respond, "Yes, Master. Would you like to suck my dick, Master?"

Harris props himself up on an elbow and gives me the weirdest look. "That is something I never wanted to hear Igor say."

He has a point. No, seriously - it was bad. "Guess that means we're not watching Frankenstein tonight."

"Really not."

"So, now what?" I ask, arms folded behind my head.

If Xander sucks Spike's cock... click here

If Xander decides to fuck Spike... click here