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25 July 2007 @ 10:36 am
Fic: The Rose Remembers (6/?)  
Author: Eurydice & Pepperlandgirl
Fic Title: The Rose Remembers
Summary: In which Spike and Buffy have some intimate time. Nicholas and Danny, too.
Rating: NC17 Spike/Buffy, Nicholas/Danny
Warnings: Violence and sexual content.
Banner number: 47 by athenamuze
Setting: About 2 1/2 years post-NFA and 6 months after the movie
Disclaimer: Not ours, as much as we would like them to be.
Author Notes: This is a crossover with the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer but honestly, you shouldn't have to be familiar with the show to be able to understand the fic. However, by reading the fic, you *will* get spoiled for the entire series. Just so that you know. Banner by moscowwatcher.
Previously: Buffy had a Slayer dream where Giles was killed, and in an effort to stop it from happening, went with him to Sandford, the town where her dream took place...
Previous chapter: Chapter 5. Crossposted to sandfordpolice pepperlandgirl4.





Chapter 6


For a minute there, Buffy thought Giles was going to chaperone them all the way back to the castle. He deliberately placed himself between her and Spike, asking pointed questions about Drusilla’s history as if Spike hadn’t already shared what little he knew, and even if Spike’s answers remained on the terse side, Giles continued with the interrogation all the way until they reached the Swan.

“I trust I don’t have to tell you to be careful,” he said to Buffy as they came to a halt.

She grinned. “Yeah, but why break a perfect record? Go ahead. Give me your best shot.”

He glanced pointedly at Spike. “Just don’t do anything foolish. Drusilla is unpredictable, at best. If you succeed in finding her, take caution in how you approach.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a mock salute. She waited until he had gone inside before turning to Spike. “So? Do we head back out to the castle and start our poking there?”

“You know me, Slayer, I can do my poking anywhere you like.”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy headed down the road toward the castle again. “I can see two years of hiding out with Angel hasn’t meant you picked up any of his subtlety.”

Spike snorted. “Angel is many things, Slayer, but subtle is not one of them. Two years of hanging out with the grand poofter has just made me appreciate the finer things in life. Mainly, being a hundred miles away from him.”

“So why stick with him for so long? Because bosom buddies, you’re not.”

“Because he’d get his fool-self killed if I wasn’t there to keep an eye on him,” Spike said, without a trace of his earlier annoyance. “What happened in LA with the Senior Partners, it was pretty bad. Worse than anything I ever saw in Sunnydale, honestly. Angel lost all his people. Even Illyria opted not to hang around his mopey ass.”

Buffy sobered at his words. “You could’ve called us, you know. You didn’t have to go at it all on your own.” The words she left unspoken, the We love you and we missed you, hung between them.

“You know Angel. He’s not happy unless he’s making some great, noble, martyry sacrifice.” Spike shrugged. “But he did sort of have a point. I’m not saying he’s been right or anything, but it’s like those Bugs Bunny cartoons. Every time we lifted our heads, somebody tried to shoot them off. I expect the Senior Partners will be sending something here to Sandford, if they realize I’m here.”

“Then we have to make sure they don’t find out.”

The we was automatic, and Buffy didn’t miss the glance Spike shot her. It was too late to take it back, but in that moment, she realized she honestly didn’t want to.

“The best way to do that is to get out of Sandford as soon as possible. Which means tracking Drusilla.” He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “Which is not exactly the way I’d like to pass the hours tonight.”

A charge ran over her skin. Buffy was grateful for her heavy coat; it hid the goose bumps that had erupted at the dark longing in his words.

“Well, I’m all weaponed up,” she said. Pulling her stake out of her waistband, she twirled it expertly between her fingers. “I’m going to assume you’re not going to give me hell for staking Dru this time? Because no way can I just let her walk, Spike.”

“I am going to give you hell. Because you’re not going to stake her. I am.”

Her brows shot up. “No offense, but color me a little skeptical. You couldn’t kill her without a soul. What makes you think you can do it with one?”

“Has it occurred to you that I might have changed since I died? I might not be the same vampire you remember.”

“But she’s the same Dru. And can you honestly tell me you’ve changed so much that it wouldn’t kill you to have to stake her?” Buffy shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“What do you think? That’d I’d risk my neck, and Angel’s, to come to Sandford, just to back down at the last second?”

Damn it. When he said it like that…

“Well, no,” Buffy conceded. “But can we have an agreement here, at least? Whoever gets the clean shot at Dru takes it. And no arguments from the vampire or slayer gallery.”

She saw the glint in Spike’s eyes that usually meant he was spoiling for a fight, but after a moment, he conceded with a nod of his head. “Fine. Whoever gets the open shot takes it.”

Maybe it was silly to take such pleasure in such a little thing. But Buffy knew that it wasn’t that long ago she and Spike would’ve been at each other’s throat – and then at other body parts, as their passions flared – in an attempt not to budge an inch. That last year together had created a whole new dynamic between them, but just as she was starting to feel comfortable exploring it, he had to up and die on her.

So this was something completely new. He probably had changed since he’d died. She did, after all.

“So how long have you actually been in Sandford?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, about…” He lifted his head and took another deep breath, shifting directions towards the center of town. She could see the part of him that would always be a predator, slipping through dark streets in search of his prey. His gaze pried into the shadows, like he expected Drusilla to be behind every corner. Maybe he did. But occasionally his eyes would fall on her, and an entirely different sort of light would flare in the blue depths. “About a week. We think Drusilla’s been here for at least two weeks. Something’s been going on in this area, anyway.”

Two weeks. Nicholas claimed Gabriel was the only one who’d gone missing, but that was an awful long time for Drusilla not to get bored. How had she managed not to kill anybody else in that time period?

Buffy shook it off. She needed to stop looking a gift vamp in the mouth. If Dru wasn’t killing, that was a good thing. The why of it didn’t matter.

She frowned when Spike came to a stop in front of the town’s church. “Uh, why are we here?” she asked.

“Because the trail ends right there,” Spike said, pointing at the closed church door. “Can’t say I’m really surprised.” He squared his shoulders and rotated his neck. “Let’s get this done, so we can move on to more pleasant things.”

Buffy took a single step forward and stopped. “You go first,” she said before she could change her mind. “You’re the one with the super sniffer.”

Spike nodded and hurried to the door. Buffy held her stake at the ready, a shiver of anticipation going down her spine. Unless they got a major bit of luck, this would be a very serious fight. Buffy was looking forward to it. It wouldn’t hurt to work off a little excess energy.

The door opened with an appropriately menacing creak. The interior of the church was dark. And cold. Spike stopped short, swearing under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s not here.”

“So follow where she went.”

“Fine.” He strolled to the front of the church, spun on his heel, and came back to the door. “I didn’t see her. And the scent outside ended here. She probably went back the way she came. She’s crazy, not stupid.”

Buffy glanced back at the door. The night outside was as silent and still as when they’d left it.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

“I’m not properly armed anyway. Maybe we should go back for some weapons before I play bloodhound again.”

His words drew her attention back to Spike. The moonlight streaming in through the doorway cast silver streaks across his hair, shaded the planes of his face even more. There was something almost sacrilegious about thinking him so deadly beautiful inside a church, but Buffy couldn’t help it. She might have thought a lot of things about Spike over the years, but it was impossible to deny just how gorgeous he could be.

“Go back where?” she asked without thinking. Then his meaning sank in. Her brows shot into her hairline. “Did you really just suggest we go back to your place?”

“What? That’s where the weapons are.”

“If the words, ‘I’ve got the perfect stake for you, Slayer,’ come out of your mouth, I swear, I’m looking for Dru by myself.”

“I wasn’t about to say anything like that.” Spike smirked. “There’s no point in stating the obvious, is there?”

With a roll of her eyes, Buffy whirled on her heel and marched for the door. “My stakes are as good as yours. We’ll go back to my room and get some more.”

“Whatever you say, Slayer.”

With a final look around the church, they both turned towards the door. Spike’s shoulder brushed against hers, and it was just another in a series of incidental contact, but it didn’t seem very incidental. It only took moments to cross the village center on the way back to the Swan, and everything was utterly motionless. It should have been peaceful, but Buffy still found it very creepy. It had been impossible to sleep the night before—for many reasons, but mostly because it had been too silent.

“Nice place,” Spike commented as they walked through the rustic lobby.

“Be glad it’s under new management. Giles told me the last owner was part of that NRA group that went schizo on the town.”

“NWA, pet. Neighborhood Watch Alliance.”

She took the correction in stride, leading him down the narrow corridor to her room. “Neighborhood Wackjob Alliance, is more like it.”

Spike chuckled, and stood a little too close as she fished the heavy, old-fashioned key out of her coat pocket and unlocked the door. The Swan was far from the sort of comfort she was used to. The room was small, the bed narrow and very hard, and the wallpaper unbelievably ugly.

“Home sweet home, eh?”

“For now.”

Buffy went straight for her suitcase, which sat on the lone chair in the room. Her extra stakes were tucked into the outside pocket, but when she’d retrieved them and zipped it shut again, she turned around to find Spike no longer standing in the open doorway.

For one thing, the door wasn’t even open any more.

For another, Spike now sat on her bed, his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

He rested his hands behind his head. “Resting. Had a long night.”

“This is not why we came back here.”

“Bed’s not as bad as it looks.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Comfy, even.”

“You used to sleep on a sarcophagus. Your opinion isn’t exactly trustworthy.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that that sarcophagus was very comfortable. Few blankets, few puffy pillows. But it wasn’t exactly four-star accommodations. Not like this luxury suite.” He smiled at her. “But if you don’t trust my opinion, you could always come over and see for yourself.”

Her feet didn’t move because his suggestion was so irresistible. Buffy decided her feet aimed her toward the side of the bed because in her haste to get to Giles, she’d packed entirely the wrong sets of shoes and her ankles ached from too-stiff leather in her boots.

Yep. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Buffy felt the strong length of Spike’s leg press against her hip. “We’re supposed to be looking for Drusilla,” she said, holding out one of the stakes.

Spike sat up and leaned over, pressing his chest against her shoulder and taking a deep breath. “We looked for Drusilla. Been looking for her all night.” He smoothed his fingers down her ponytail. “We had other unfinished business tonight, didn’t we?”

Her heart thudded at his proximity. The gleam in Spike’s eye said he was all too aware of it.

“You died.”

“I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me you were back.”

“Had my reasons.”

“And you’re just going to leave again once we take care of this problem with Dru.”

Spike sighed softly. “Can’t leave Angel alone to fend for himself, Buffy. But that doesn’t mean I have to leave Sandford by myself.”

Once upon a time, Spike wouldn’t have blinked twice at making a choice between her or Angel. It was a testimony to how much he had changed that he refused to abandon him now, when they were clearly in this mess together.

But that didn’t mean she could go with him.

“Dawn,” she said softly, as if that was the only explanation he needed.

“I know you’ve got the Bit, but…” Spike offered a thin smile. “Maybe we should just take advantage of the time we have here, yeah? I missed you. Every day.”

He gazed at her with that same earth-shattering sincerity that had struck down each of her defenses those last few, awful weeks in Sunnydale. He might have stayed away, and she might have been a little angry about his deceit, but there was no denying that Spike meant every word.

And she was done wasting time. What was the point of holding a grudge? They’d lost over two years already. They were going to lose even more when they were done here.

“We really should be looking for Dru, you know,” she murmured.

He gently cupped the back of her neck and guided her forward. “I know.” But he wasn’t releasing her, and she wasn’t pulling away. Not even when his lips brushed against hers, and he tightened his grip.

Buffy wasn’t starved for affection. Sure, there wasn’t a regular guy in her life right now, and sure, sometimes she had to run out to the store in the middle of the night to buy batteries, but that didn’t mean she was looking to jump into the arms of the first hot guy who looked at her the right way. Or the first hot vamp.

But the familiar curl of his fingers around her nape, and the faint taste of smoke that clung to his mouth, and the way his leather coat creaked as he leaned into her body all added up to ohmigod, must have more.

Her lips parted, just a fraction, just the barest of space between them, but it was enough for the tip of her tongue to sneak out and relearn the little curve in Spike’s upper lip. The contact made his chest rumble, and Buffy lifted a hand to fist his lapel, holding him close when he sought to deepen the caress.

For long minutes, nothing moved but their mouths. Spike would deepen the kiss, only to pull back again, like he was merely sampling her lips. Or savoring the caress for as long as he could. They finally shifted, Spike pushing her back until she was flat on the mattress. Their mouths never parted, and he never stopped touching her. He draped his leg over hers, his other hand resting on her stomach.

His open coat fell around them, closeting them in and retaining the rising heat of her body. The sharp edge of her need had been slaked at the castle with his ravenous kisses, but that didn’t mean this was any less wanting. It meant Buffy had the luxury of taking her time, of savoring each remembered contour of his back, of allowing Spike the freedom to treat her as he’d always wanted and couldn’t allow. She had to. This might be all she got from him for a very long time.

When Spike moved his mouth from hers, his lips were warmed from the contact. He trailed whisper-soft kisses along her jaw, his tongue darting out occasionally to sample her skin before he continued down her neck. He’d exhale occasionally, blowing puffs of air that she could barely feel, but still sent sharp chills down her back. Spike kept his hand on her stomach, his fingers moving in slow patterns beneath her shirt as he licked and nibbled at her throat, her neck, her jaw, the soft area beneath her ear.

“Spike…” she breathed.

The sentiment she’d wished to convey was lost when his hand slid upward and traced the lower curve of her breast. She wasn’t even entirely sure what it had been, because all she knew was the deliberate slip of callused fingers beneath her bra, the hard edges catching on soft skin to pebble her nipples.

Buffy closed her eyes, willing Spike’s fingers to move over higher, when his hand and his mouth disappeared from her body. She couldn’t stop her moan of protest, her eyes flying open to see just what had taken his attention from her.

“Not going anywhere, Slayer. Just wanted to get a bit more comfortable, is all,” he said, shrugging off his coat.

Once he tossed it aside, he took her hand and pulled her into a sitting position before pushing her own coat down her shoulders. With that gone, Buffy whisked her shirt over her head, and she couldn’t help but be warmed by the look on Spike’s face as he trailed his fingertips over her bare skin.

“It’s been a long time,” she said. His t-shirt had pulled free from his jeans, revealing a narrow strip of pale skin. On impulse, she bent forward and dragged her tongue along the exposed flesh, smiling when the muscles twitched beneath her tongue. “I’m not sure I remember exactly what it is that drives you crazy.”

Spike snorted. “You’re kidding, right?” He made short work of the snaps on her bra, tossing it aside to join her coat and shirt. “You.” He pulled the band out of her hair, allowing it to spill over his hand and down her shoulders. “You drive me crazy.”

She wasn’t going to be the only one shirtless here. But as Buffy slid her hands beneath Spike’s shirt, pushing it up and out of her way, she moved her mouth down at the same time, outlining the long line of his erection with the edge of her teeth.

Spike hissed and jerked his hips upward. His muttered curse made her chuckle, and she promptly shoved him back down so that she could nibble along his denim-covered cock again.

“You know, this’d go better if we got the pants out of the way first,” Spike suggested helpfully. “It’s been awhile, but I’m pretty sure that’s how it works.”

“Oh, right.”

Abruptly, Buffy pulled away and stood up at the side of the bed. With Spike’s eyes heavy on her, she shimmied out of her jeans, pulling her panties down at the same time. His tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip as he watched her hungrily, but as soon as she was naked, Buffy climbed back between his legs, pushing him flat against the mattress as she resumed mouthing his shaft through the tight denim.

Spike growled softly, and reached down to unzip his fly, but Buffy playfully batted his hand away. Not to be thwarted for long, Spike hooked his hands beneath her arms and pulled her up his body, her nipples dragging against the rough material of his t-shirt. “You think you’re awfully cute, don’t you?”

Buffy grinned. “I was aiming for clever, but cute’ll do in a pinch.”

Spike chuckled and pressed his mouth to hers once again. This kiss was different than the earlier one, hungrier. His hands seemed to be everywhere. He smoothed his palms over her shoulders, down her back and ass, and then between her thighs. Spike ground his hips against hers, his cock sliding against her clit, his jeans rough against her sensitive flesh.

Teeth clashed as Buffy clawed at his shirt, desperate to get it out of her way so that she could cool the heat of her skin against his hard muscles. Her nails raked over his back, but that only served to strength Spike’s resolve, his expert fingers stroking along the soft flesh of her pussy.

“Don’t tease,” she murmured against his mouth. “Not this time.”

Spike stopped teasing her long enough to push his hand between their bodies and work his zipper free. Her fingers joined his to pull at his belt, before pushing her hand into his jeans. Spike moaned as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and squeezed gently. He was just like she remembered, his skin cool and smooth to the touch. She squeezed him again, and he responded by tracing her opening with his fingertips.

“This is a switch,” she said. Her thumb smoothed over the pre-come collecting at the tip, spreading it over the velvety skin. “Usually, you’re the one who’s completely naked.”

“We usually don’t bother with the bed, either. I guess this is a night of firsts.”

Coiling her arm around his neck kept her steady as she pulled back far enough to meet his eyes. “That’s one thing resurrections are good for. Take it from an expert.”

“Glad they’re good for something,” Spike murmured. He shifted his hips, and the tip of his cock slid against her lips. Buffy caught her breath, her pussy clenching with desire. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her back to his mouth, his tongue moving against hers as he slid his cock inside her.

Each inch stretched as it filled her tight passage, making her gasp, making her shiver, making her head spin. By the time he was fully sheathed, Buffy was trembling, and her arms tightened around his shoulders. There was something she was supposed to be doing, something more than sitting there, straddling his hips, savoring the burn of his cock as it jerked inside her, but the details escaped her. All she could do was begin the delicious slide back up, her ragged breaths echoing in her ears.

“God, Slayer…you feel so bloody…good…” He pulled out of her almost completely and then slowly pushed forward again, filling her inch by inch. They both shuddered once he was completely inside her again, and they clutched each other almost desperately. She would have bruises on her hip, but he would have a matching set where her fingers dug into his back. “Buffy…”

Spike always had a way of saying her name that made it sound like a prayer, not a punishment. Her mouth met his, and she kissed him with every ounce of longing she’d secreted away in the dark hours of night when she could admit how much she missed him. It was allowed here. This was what they had, this now and what little time before they finally managed to stop Dru.

Spike didn’t shy away from the bare emotion or longing in her kiss. He responded in kind, and she could easily sense how much he missed her. Spike had the tendency to tear down all the walls between them, leaving them both too vulnerable. That used to frighten her, but it didn’t now. There was no familiar swell of fear, but the pleasure was familiar. An unbelievable heat that radiated through her, that suffused her flesh from the bottom of her feet to the back of her neck.

Her strokes quickened, quivers and quakes that made her thighs tighten. A single bead of sweat dripped between her breasts, and Spike tore away from her mouth to chase it down the slick skin, the tip of his tongue a wicked promise of what was yet to come. Buffy arched back, bending into the strong splay of his fingers. She wanted it – wanted more – but the words to ask for it failed her.

But Spike didn’t. He knew. He always had known.

His mouth latched around a puckered nipple, sucking it so hard against the roof of his mouth that a jolt went straight to Buffy’s clit. She cried out, scrambling for a stronger hold, and their hips slammed together as she sought release. For both of them.

A single sharp tooth sank into her nipple, not quite piercing her skin. Spike’s chest rumbled, sending vibrations through her body and against her nipple. She clenched, and then they were both shouting, their bodies coming together one final time. For a moment, everything but Spike disappeared, the nothing but white space as Spike tightened his grip on her, and she rode out her orgasm. Spike released her nipple, resting his forehead against her chest as his cock jerked against her walls and she fought for breath.

“That…that…” Was amazing, was something, was anything, but Buffy couldn’t get her lungs to work. She couldn’t get her brain to work, either. All that seemed to be working was the spasming muscles of her pussy.

“Yes, it was,” Spike agreed, dragging his tongue upward, collecting the sheen on her skin. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Buffy buried her face in the crook of his neck. She was afraid to speak. If she did, sentiments that would only make it harder to separate later would come tumbling out, and then where would they be?

So she opted for the safe route, licking and nibbling along his hard shoulder. And only when there were enough thoughts about round two rolling inside her brain did she say, “Just because it’s a night of firsts, doesn’t mean we don’t get seconds and thirds, does it?”

“God, I hope that’s not what it means.” He ran his fingers down her spine. “I plan on being a right greedy bastard.”

She pulled back and met his blazing blue gaze. “Greed is good.” She smiled. “Greed is very good.”

* * *


Nicholas looked out the window, checking the road in front of his cottage for the tenth time in thirty minutes. The full moon was silver in the frosty air and afforded him enough light to see several feet in any direction. If anybody walked past, he wouldn’t miss them. His palms tingled, and so did the balls of his feet. It was still seven hours until dawn. What could happen in seven hours? The winter nights were getting longer and longer, offering cover to creatures Nicholas never even dreamed existed.

“Hey,” Danny said from behind him, his fingers gentle on Nicholas’ shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

Nicholas shook his head. “I feel like I should be out there.”

“But you heard what they said. She’s faster, and stronger, and has that thrall thing…”

“But we’re prepared for that, aren’t we? If those kids are out there, they’re not going to know what to expect. At least we’ll have some idea of what we’re looking for, of what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“You should try to get some sleep while you can.”

Nicholas shook his head and turned back to the window. “I’m not tired.”

“Come to bed anyway.”

“I’m really not…” Nicholas stopped as Danny’s meaning sunk in. “I’m too distracted tonight, Danny.”

“You’re always distracted,” Danny pointed out.

“Yeah, but I don’t always have a murderous vampire roaming the streets, or another murderous vampire sitting on my couch and drinking my beer.”

Danny grinned. “Yeah, but that part was pretty cool, wasn’t it?” His took Nicholas’ hand and tugged on it gently. “Let me take your mind off it.”

Nicholas still hesitated for a moment. He knew staring out the window was not actually helpful. In fact, he felt almost…helpless. And he hated that feeling. It wasn’t something he was forced to experience often. But then, he wasn’t often ripped so completely out of his element. The last time he had been so out of sorts was shortly after he had been transferred out of his real life and into Sandford.

Danny tugged on his hand again, forcing him to take a step away from the window.

“I bet getting shot a few times will slow anybody down,” Nicholas tried. “Vampire or not.”

“Or maybe it won’t bother her at all. Maybe it’ll be like getting stung by a bee or something.”

Danny did have a point with that. And he knew it wasn’t wise to face an unknown assailant without any preparation. They hadn’t even found anything that would make a good stake. But Nicholas planned to be prepared by the next night. Danny forced him to take another step.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Danny beamed. “See, I knew you’d see things my way.”

“Yes,” Nicholas grinned, “you’re very persuasive.”

He followed Danny into the bedroom, turning off the lights as they passed down the corridor. He began undressing as soon as the bedroom door shut behind them. Danny watched patiently as Nicholas hung up his jumper, emptied the pockets of his slacks before putting them in the hamper, and then moved into the small bathroom to shave, brush his teeth, and wash his face and hands. While Nicholas performed his nightly ritual, Danny stripped and left his clothes in a forgotten pile on the floor. Nicholas looked at the pile with a pointed glance, but Danny merely shrugged.

“I don’t care if my dirty clothes get wrinkled.”

Nicholas didn’t bother pointing out that dirty clothes did not belong on the floor. And for now, he’d ignore them. Getting the chance to spend time with Danny was more important than a small mess, anyway.

“How’s your head?” Nicholas asked, as he slid under the sheets.

Danny touched the back of his skull and grimaced. “There’s a bump. Another reason for you to stay in tonight, isn’t it? You’re not supposed to leave people with head injuries alone.”

Nicholas frowned. “Is it bad? Are you in pain?”

“Nah. Just a bit sore. I took something for it while you were staring out the window.” Danny turned towards him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, and pulling him into a familiar embrace.

Taking painkillers wasn’t all Danny had done while Nicholas was busy staring out the window. His mouth was clean, tasting vaguely of minty toothpaste, and his skin smelled soapy. Nicholas sighed into the kiss, his hand moving to Danny’s shoulder, gripping him tightly. He did have the tendency to protest when Danny tried to pull him away from his thoughts and his work, but he never regretted it when Danny succeeded. Danny had the tendency to kiss like he was happy for the chance, and he wasn’t quite sure he’d be getting another one. Which was ridiculous, of course, because Nicholas certainly didn’t have any intention of taking the opportunity away from him.

Danny pushed him back to the pillow, his free hand moving to Nicholas’ chest. He rested his fingers lightly over Nicholas’ heart and deepened the kiss, his tongue probing deeper into Nicholas’ mouth. He didn’t resist Danny’s kiss or his caresses as his fingers moved up and down his chest, sliding along his skin. On each pass, his fingers moved higher and lower, until he was rubbing Nicholas from the hollow of his throat to the top of his thigh. Chills followed Danny’s fingers, and heat began to gather in his groin.

“What about you?” Danny asked against his mouth.

Nicholas blinked. “What about me?”

“You were hurt too, weren’t you?”

There was a low ache in his back where Gabriel had kicked him. He supposed there was probably a shoe-shaped bruise just above his hip. “I’m okay.”

Danny’s hand drifted over his shoulder and down his back. Nicholas tensed, sucking in his breath as Danny’s fingers came in contact with the probable bruise. “You sure about that?”

“It’ll heal. Don’t worry about it now, Danny.”

“Were you scared?”

Nicholas met Danny’s eyes for a moment before looking away. “Yeah. A little.” He could see the light dimming in Danny’s eyes. He didn’t want to Danny to worry about anything. Not at that moment. He grinned a little. “But I thought you were going to help me take my mind off that.”

Danny returned his grin before ducking his head, their lips touching again. Danny’s mouth wasn’t the only thing that got back to work. Nicholas’ cock stirred as Danny’s fingers brushed across his groin, and before the kiss broke, he was fully erect, the warmth in his lower stomach sparking into flames.

Nicholas had had his fair share of relationships. They never lasted very long. Janine actually held the record. And being with them was so much different than being with Danny. It wasn’t just comparing apples and oranges. It was like comparing apples to gold fish.

But that thought, along with the worries plaguing him, faded in his mind as Danny’s mouth followed his fingers down Nicholas’ body. He was soft about his exploration, and a little slow, unhurried. Nicholas took several deep, even breaths, simultaneously relaxing into the mattress and tensing beneath Danny’s touch. And how did Danny know how to do that? Where did he learn it? When? Who taught him? It certainly wasn’t Nicholas, because Danny had had this effect on him the very first time they went to bed together.

Danny’s breath was warm against Nicholas’ thighs. Startlingly so. And Nicholas knew what was coming. Danny never could resist. Even though he had asked him time and again to resist the impulse, he never did….

Danny’s teeth came down on the sensitive skin at the seam of his thigh. Nicholas immediately sat up, his breath catching as every muscle from his thigh to his throat clenched.

Christ.”

Danny chuckled.

“It’s not funny.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“You’d think you’d be used to it by now.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Danny traced the faint bite mark on his skin with his tongue, soothing him, until Nicholas relaxed once again. It was a hesitant sort of relaxation, though. Nicholas half-expected him to find another sensitive spot, and another, and another. Sometimes, Danny got in that sort of mood, and it was always impossible to predict. And there were enough vulnerable points on his body, enough areas that rarely received any sort of contact, that Danny could wind him up in almost no time at all.

But he didn’t have to worry about that tonight, it seemed. Danny dragged his mouth over Nicholas’ groin until he found the base of his cock. He licked lazy circles around Nicholas’ shaft, fanning the heat through his body. His fingers curled into the blanket with anticipation. Just a little bit more. Just a little bit…

Nicholas considered it a universally acknowledged truth that, once a blowjob commenced, higher brain function was impossible. As soon as Danny’s mouth closed around the head of Nicholas’ shaft, everything else shut down. He closed his eyes, focusing exclusively on the warmth of Danny’s mouth, and the way his tongue slid over his sensitive tip, and the heat that coated his skin and flesh.

Danny curled his fingers into the top of Nicholas’ thighs, holding him down against the mattress. Danny always seemed surprisingly strong, like Nicholas wasn’t going anywhere unless Danny wanted him to. His breath grew ragged and loud in his ears, his heart thumping heavily against his ribs. His face flushed, and his fingers and toes tingled.

“Don’t stop,” Nicholas panted.

Danny’s only response was to shake his head as he moved his lips down Nicholas’ shaft. Of course, he wouldn’t stop. Nicholas reached down, his fingers moving through Danny’s hair, caressing his ears, moving down his jaw. The touch was soft, a stark contrast to the growing desire rushing through his body.

Danny flexed his fingers, massaging Nicholas’ thighs. He tensed, his muscles pulling taut again, but this time it wasn’t unpleasant. It was far from that. Pleasure coiled in his lower stomach, winding tighter and tighter until Nicholas was breathless.

“Danny,” he managed, the words escaping his clenched throat. “I’m gonna…”

Danny gripped the base of Nicholas cock and pulled his head back, stroking up as he did. The final stroke was enough to make Nicholas erupt, his come splashing against his stomach.

Danny crawled up the bed, stretching out beside him on the mattress. Nicholas immediately turned to face him, his arm going around the other man’s shoulder before their mouths met in a slow kiss

“Not a bad start, eh?”

Nicholas smiled. “No, not bad at all.”

“Ready to go again?”

Nicholas laughed lightly. “Give me a few minutes. But in the mean time…” He fisted Danny’s shaft, and tilted his head for another kiss.


To be continued in Chapter 7...
 
 
neek_loveneek_love on July 26th, 2007 12:01 am (UTC)
Yay, update!!!

Wonderful, as always...brilliant job of building up the sexual tension between Spike and Buffy, and the comfortable familiarity between Nicholas and Danny.
And plus - sex! Yay!
Can't wait for more