1_million_words | Swap of Joy: A bit of Spander for Skargasm!

My SOJ giftie to you, Skargasm, is a bit of morning after Spike/Xander. I hope I got them anywhere near right for you! :)

Title: Nothing Easy About It
Rating: Teen, I guess? With f-bombs if those bother some.
Words: 539
Summary: It's a new day for Spike- maybe. It all hangs on what happens when Xander wakes up.

Spike surfaced slowly, waking from the first perfect, dreamless rest he'd had in...what? Forever? It felt almost like swimming into awareness; his mind calm, his entire body feeling loose ...heavy limbed... well f......

"...uck me sideways...ohhh..." the words slide out of his mouth in a whisper, his head popping up to look at him, to see if Xander is awake already, too, but thankfully he's still out. "Not a dream, then. Was it?"

Spike sinks in, again; Xander half on his back and half over him, Spike's cheek warm where it's been nestled in by Xander's shoulder.

He has time: He can get up before Xander wakes, throw himself together, get out of there. Maybe the next time they see each other they'll be able to snark and bitch at each other as if this never happened.

It would be the most sensible thing to do.

And yet - the simple pleasure of it, of waking to him, to this bed instead of the damp dank of a crypt, of a basement - it's an attraction he hadn't expected to feel.

Lust was one thing. Belonging? Was it something he could really find in this man?

Spike lost himself in it again for, what? A few seconds, maybe a minute- remembering their argument last night turning physical, how he'd pushed him at a wall to make his point, Xander pushing right back and harder than he'd expected out of him. Spike had half-fallen; he blocked a fist swung at him on the way back up, and in trying to trip Xander had landed them both on the ground in a most ungraceful heap.

There had been a second or three when neither of them seemed sure if they were going to keep fighting, or....

Oh, it had been much, much better, the alternative.

And now his reprieve was over, the decision made; no where to run as Xander was shifting below him, rousing slightly, then sitting up with a jolt.

Spike could only chuckle darkly, watching it happen: Seeing Xander slowly remember, too; mixed sounds of physical relief and existential disappointment emanating from him as he relaxed back into his pillow.

"'Morning, darling. Round three before breakfast?"

"Depends," Xander rasped, flat out,now, from below the arm he'd thrown over his closed eyes. "Do you fuck that way every time?"

"What way is that?"

"Like you wanna put me through the mattress. Or the headboard."

"I do have more than one gear," Spike offered, flipping to get up over him on wrists and knees, offering a light hip thrust that earned him a soft, sore groan full of 'maybe'. "But you know what they say? Drive it like you stole it."

"You think that's it?" Xander twisted, flipping them, and Spike let himself be pinned to the bed this time. "You think you've got me? That I'm yours this easy?"

The chuckle that drew from him was deeper and louder. But less dark. More mirthful.

"Oh, there's absolutely nothing I want less, pet, than for this to be...easy."

Spike lay still but lifted his head; asked for Xander's mouth with his own mouth, with his eyes, and he got it, and ...

....mmmm, yes, this was going to be so much difficult fun.