Ambient

by Werewindle

 

Xander turned slowly taking in the final product of months of planing, scheming and sneaking. Not to mention hours of work. Xander had scrubbed and swept and scrapped the lower room of Spike's crypt clean; sorted out Spike's things and draped black table cloths over the rickety shower rod and metal crates, disguising what he couldn't change.

But the triumph was lights. Xander had spent quite a bit of money and cleaned out every store after Halloween, amassing a boggling amount of lights. There were golden rope lights with strings of skeleton lights twined amongst them, purple fairy lights over everything and glittering glass and silver snowflakes sparkling amongst it all. Spike's bedroom glowed.

It wasn't like he was trying to give Spike the Sun or something. It just- He'd tried explaining the idea to Dawn once, because Dawn could be damn scary about secrets when she wanted to be, and the closest he'd been able to come up with was that he wanted Spike to see.

Spike had a thing about lights, events and places in his life were always connected in someway to lights. The flicker of an oil lamp of an evening with his mother; the gaslights that lit Dru's face on their first meeting; chaotic fires that burned stories high all around as he took his first slayer; the fluorescents of the subway car when he took his second; the neon of Vegas and the grungy glow of the streets in Prague.

Xander wanted Spike to associate lights with him, with them, but Xander didn't want that association to be linked to SunnyHell or the dim basement of doom. He wanted something- he wanted something fucking special. And Xander wasn't above blowing hundreds of dollars and tricking Spike into chaperoning Dawn's girl's night outing to achieve it.

...Okay so maybe the chaperoning was a bonus. Damn vamp, throw out his Hawaiian shirts will he?


Spike slammed the door of his crypt shut behind him. He was not in a good mood to say the least. Dawn's friends were batshit insane, the whole bloody lot of them. The giggling and the hair twirling - gods he'd wanted to kill something. And Xander. Xander would pay for roping him into babysitting the little infant harpies.

Spike raised an eyebrow, he could hear Xander moving around on the bed downstairs. His boy was supposed to be off taking the witches to some skyclad nature retreat. Spike dropped through the floor sarcastic question dying on his tongue as he took in the transformed room. Spike tore his eyes from the glowing walls and finally took in the sight of Xander sprawled out on his bed. Naked but for a crimson sash tied low around his hips, ends trailing down one thigh.

Spike nearly purred. Xander's skin glowed in spider web of lights, so beautiful he had trouble getting enough air to speak. “Having Christmas a little early this year, are we Pet?” The vampire asked as he shed his duster and shirts. He crouched long enough to unsnap his boots before kicking them off and crawling up the bed over Xander until they were eye to eye.

“Something like that.” Xander rolled his hips against Spike's, scratched his nails along the blond's spine. Spike's eyes flashed gold and he ravaged Xander's mouth. When he felt the human's lips had been sufficiently plundered Spike nibbled his way down Xander's jaw. He breathed in Xander's scent as he skimmed his hands down the boys sides, when his fingers caught in the sash Spike hummed to himself.

“I must have been a very good boy this year.” Xander laughed and Spike kissed him again stealing the sound into himself. The knot on the sash gave way and Spike pulled it from around Xander and tossed it on to the nightstand, plans forming for that piece of cloth in the back of his mind even as he focused on the treat laid out before him.

-END-


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