Late Night Phone Call by dampersandspoons

ReviewsRating: NC-17

Summary: Buffy gets a phone call in the middle of the night from the last person she'd expect to hear from. Instead of being angry, however, she finds that the telephone lends her the courage to say the things she's too afraid to admit, and more...to explore a side of her fantasies she didn't know existed until she opened up to her enemy.

Author's Notes: This was written for the [info]taboo_spuffy challenge prompt, Phone Sex-Us. Thanks to Tanit for beta reading even with one hell of a migraine. You rock! Disclaimer in full effect. Oh yeah, and here's some really plotty porn for ya. YAY!!!

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Buffy’s hand shot out reflexively from beneath the warmth of her blanket, aimlessly flailing in search of her telephone when it rang. She finally located it before it fell to the floor and she dragged it beneath her pillow to cradle it against her ear.

“Lo?” she said quietly, her body slowly waking from the abrupt interruption of deep slumber.

Slayer.” His voice was crackling, electronic clicks breaking through the receiver.

“Spike?” Buffy said groggily, moving the curled phone cord out of her face as she rolled onto her side. She opened one eye and looked at the alarm clock on her bedside table. A pleasant blue light blinked the time and she groaned, letting her tired head collapse back onto her pillows.

“Why the hell are you calling me at three in the morning?”

Though she was irritated that Spike had woken her, the more pressing fear that something awful had happened washed away her annoyance. With Glory coming closer every day to discovering the truth of the key, Buffy would leave no stones unturned, no possibilities overlooked in the wake of this threat. And…he called her on the phone, something he hadn’t ever done before.

“Bored.” She heard that casual lilt in his voice, that teasing bitch of a smirk he always wore when he was being inconsiderate.

She was suddenly annoyed again. “The next time I see you, I’m so going to kick your ass. Do you have any idea how tired I am? How long a day I’ve had? And you call me in the middle of the night because you’re…don’t you dare laugh at me!”

But he was, and she heard him take a deep inhalation of breath before the snickering subsided. Then he chuckled one last time, a low sort of husky laugh that vibrated in the shell of her ear. “Oh, Slayer,” he said, the raspy baritones of his voice hanging on to the caboose of his mirth before coming to a full stop. “Your threats don’t have the same punch to ‘em over the phone.”

“Goodbye, Spike.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” she heard him calling desperately as she pulled the phone away from her ear.

As frustrated and as bitchy as she could possibly sound, she said, “What?”

He let out a relieved sigh, and then, “What did you do today?”

She narrowed her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows, cradling the phone on her shoulder. Spike wanted small talk? What the hell kind of weird dimension did she fall into?

“Spike, we aren’t buddies. We aren’t friends. And you’re seriously straddling the line between annoying partner and dusty vampire. So don’t ask me what I did today like you’re either of those things.”

Over the course of the last week, insulting Spike had started to lose its appeal. Since she’d gone to him in his crypt, seen him battered and bruised and just…broken, she couldn’t find the heart to wound him in the ways she had before. He’d endured torture because he honored her, honored Dawn’s secret. He later admitted it was because he loved her, but that wasn’t something she was willing to dissect. She had too much on her plate, too many things to consider; and whether or not Spike loved her was at the very bottom of her long list of things to do. However, he’d changed things that day, made her acknowledge that he existed in the same realm she did, that he wasn’t expendable. People didn’t undergo torture only to be replaced like a used-up roll of toilet paper.

He must have sensed that her meaning behind the words had faded, that it didn’t have the same effect as it used to. In the past, she would insult Spike, feel immediately superior as a result, and succeed in shutting him up for a few minutes. But now she just felt callous.

He didn’t even hear her any more. “You want to straddle me, partner?”

She sighed in frustration. “You are so sick, you know that? You get off on twisting my words around.”

No doubt thrilled that the conversation had lasted this long, he said, “I get off on all sorts of things. This, for example.” His voice dropped again, as if he was trying at seduction but she knew better than to think Spike had to try. It was innate for him, like second skin. Really, all he ever had to do was open his mouth and sensuality oozed out of it, even if he was throwing a punch at the same time. The way that vamp could put the fear of God in you with a flash of fang and make your knees wobble with a smirk in the same facial expression was pretty impressive. And more importantly, he was baiting her.

“I’m sorry we took your precious toy away but that doesn’t give you license to bother me at all hours of the night because you’re a pervert. Goodbye!” She slammed the phone down hard on the cradle and drummed her heels on the mattress in frustration. She hadn’t realized she’d twisted the comforter in her fists until just then and she growled.

“Great. Now I’m wide awake. Thanks a lot, Spike!”

The phone rang again. She debated for a second to let the machine get it but if it continued to ring, it might wake up Dawn. She yanked the phone off its cradle.

“Stop calling me!”

“Slayer, I’m sorry.” He almost sounded sincere. “I didn’t know you were jealous of the bot.”

She slowly closed her eyes and she clenched her jaw, struggling to calm down. Her knuckles whitened as her grip on the phone constricted. If she yelled at him, it would only serve to prove his point. This was not a point she wanted to talk about, either. She also knew if she hung up, he would only call her right back.

“Are you finished? Are you done harassing me for the night, Spike? I’m really, really tired.”

She heard him sigh, long and heavy. “Know you are. Couldn’t sleep and I just… I’m sorry. Worried is all.”

The tone in his voice gave her pause. Spike wasn’t someone she ever thought would worry about anything. He laughed in the face of danger, gave it a two-finger salute and grabbed his crotch with an arrogant tug before he turned his back on it. It was an enlightening characteristic of his as well as being vehemently stupid and constantly getting him into trouble. But worry? His brow furrowed with tension, his teeth gnawing at his fingernails? Never. Never in a million years would she think of him in that vein, especially not concerning something that would place him in the category of a white hat.

But she could hear it in his voice that he was, which only added to her own fears. For Spike to be worried about her meant that he understood the weight of what she was to face. He had firsthand knowledge of what she was up against. Concern from Spike wasn’t something to gloss over.

“I’ll figure it out,” was all she could say, the volume of her voice jarring her out of the long stretch of silence that spread between them.

“‘Course you will,” he said teasingly, trying to redirect the conversation to something less serious. “But you need a break. Gonna kill yourself before it’s all over if you aren’t careful.”

“I can’t stop, Spike.” And she really was having a conversation with her enemy on the telephone. She blamed lack of sleep. “If I stop, then—”

“Then what? World stops spinning? All the big baddies of the world will take over? You’re running yourself ragged.”

“I can’t stop. I can’t. The minute I do, something awful is going to happen. This is my life. I go and I go and I go and I keep on going until I figure it out. I can’t even be the sister Dawn needs because I’m too busy protecting her. I can’t have anything right now. Not until it’s over.”

“It will never be over, Buffy.”

He said her name. He said it so effortlessly that she almost missed it amid the significance in his voice, the gravity of what he’d said pressing down on her. She could only listen, stunned silent by the truth that she never wanted to think about; the reality of her life; the never-ending, ceaseless pattern of doing and going until she finally found rest.

“You’re the Slayer. It’s what you do. You fight and you fight more and then some fuck-all hell god mucks up the works and makes you fight even harder. Just how it goes. But you’ll get ‘er. You will.”

She inhaled sharply, snuggling into her pillows and playing with the phone cord in one hand. “Since when did you get so insightful?”

He snorted, but she knew he was smiling when he said, “Lived over a hundred and twenty years, pet. You seem to forget I’m a creature of observation.”

“I didn’t forget.”

There was another long moment of silence then, no less comfortable than the one before.

It was weird; the whole thing was just weird. She wanted to find a reason to get off the phone but at the same time, she found comfort in talking with someone who might understand. It would be different if he were there. She made no mistake in admitting to herself that if Spike had said these things to her face, she wouldn’t have heard, nor would he have gotten past saying her name without a fist to his nose. But he wasn’t there. He was a voice through a receiver that had no face, no piercing eyes to see right through her and remind her with whom she was speaking.

He didn’t know everything, he didn’t really. But he understood, perhaps on a primal level, what it meant to be other. What it meant to have powers that took time to adjust to, to have abilities others didn’t or couldn’t possess. And he knew slayers, as sickening as the thought was: he knew them well. She didn’t want to think that he knew her outside of her calling, that his observant nature had fingered its way into her personal traits and habits, that he had paid attention. Not when so few of the people in her life that she respected and loved had taken enough time to figure out who she was outside of being a slayer. Maybe that’s why she constantly shut him up whenever he reminded her of that fact.

“This is nice,” he said softly, almost so low she couldn’t hear. He was afraid to say it, she knew. And she knew why because she felt the instantaneous need to backhand his compliment with a slap of denial. Braver this time, he said, “Talking with you. Like this.”

It was, she realized. She didn’t hate him like this. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d allow it to happen. Maybe she did need a break if she was up past three in the morning, having a chat on the phone with a demon.

“Perhaps we should handle all our business over the phone.” She giggled softly and bit her lip, her thoughts wandering down the road of what the fuck is going on once again.

“Least I won’t be pummeled this way,” he said, chuckling as well. He quickly grew silent, as if he’d stifled his laughter for her sake. She was just as surprised that they had remained on the line as long as they had and Spike was afraid of the easy banter, afraid that he would ruin the moment by finding kinship with her. Snickering out of jest was one thing. Laughing at her embarrassment was another. But he hadn’t joined in laughter with her before, as if they shared some sort of joke between them that no one else would understand. It was what friends did together, not mortal enemies such as them.

It sort of broke her heart that he ended it. Sort of.

“So, was Willy’s closed tonight or something?” she found herself asking, chewing on her lip and curling the cord around her fingers.

There was a very poignant pause.

“No,” he said slowly. She heard a sucking noise, as if he’d tugged his bottom lip into his mouth. “Told you. Couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re a vampire. Did you forget that you’re supposed to be awake at this hour?”

“Haven’t slept in days.”

And there it was. A pang of guilt. A tiny little dagger in her heart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about your injuries. A-are you…” She squeezed her eyes shut and winced. “I mean, pig’s blood can’t be the best thing on the market for—”

“It’s all right, love,” he said. “All healed up. No more nasty bruises marring my sexy body so don’t you fret over it.”

“God.” She rolled her eyes and he snickered. “You sure know how to turn something nice into something not nice.”

“That what that was? You bein’ nice to me? Could’ve sworn that was you feelin’ a bit guilty.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to never feel that in relation to you again,” she said snidely.

“What are you feelin’ now?”

She huffed. “Annoyed.”

“What else?”

“Really annoyed!”

“Get a thesaurus, Slayer. Come on, dig deep.”

“I really hate you, you know that?”

“Mmhmm,” he said smoothly. She heard a click and a sharp intake of breath.

“What was that?”

“Hm? Oh. Lit a smoke.” He exhaled. She could picture the image clearly. Sitting in his crypt, his arm dangling over the side of the one chair he owned, smoke billowing around him as he squinted his eyes to shield them from the burn. She briefly wondered if he was ever barefoot, if he ever came home from a long night fighting demons and took his boots off because his feet were sore and throbbing. She couldn’t imagine that he did.

She rolled onto her side and rubbed her bare feet together. “I wish I smoked.”

He chuckled. “What?”

“I don’t know. Everyone has a vice but me. Willow has magic. Dawn has shopping. Giles has his, well, whatever he has. I’m sure it’s boring. Xander has pizza and Anya. And, Anya has her…obsession with the carnal. Me? Nothing.”

“Now I know that can’t be true.”

“Aside from slaying? I’m pretty boring.”

“Ha!” he said so loudly she had to pull the phone away for a minute. “Now that’s hilarious. You’re the most fascinating woman I—”

He cleared his throat. Buffy smiled.

“Let’s just say, bein’ the sort of vamp I am who’s seen the sorts of things I have, I’d know boring if I saw it. You’re far from boring, pet. Just gotta loosen up a bit every now and then.”

“I don’t know how to do that any more.”

The thing about being awake in the middle of the night and talking on the phone with your enemy was that it made you awfully introspective. It also made a girl twirl her hair and stare at the ceiling as she took the time to think about the severity of her current situation and bask a little in easy conversation. She couldn’t picture talking about this stuff with Willow, not like they used to. She couldn’t really picture talking with anyone about this stuff. Even Riley, when they were together, hadn’t much to offer her by way of a soundboard, no matter how badly he might have wanted to be there for her. She didn’t think he’d understand.

So, just what exactly was it about Spike that made it easy for her to just be? She’d cried in front of him before, cried though he had a shotgun in his hand intended for her head. He had been exactly what she needed at the time. He didn’t ask, he didn’t tell, he didn’t try to soothe her with empty words. He let her be alone enough to get lost in her thoughts but stayed close by in case she needed him. She never felt a connection with another person like that before, had never experienced a wordless sort of communication that went without explanation. He simply knew, and she let him in, if only for a few short moments. She had let Spike in.

“Who are you?” she said softly.

“What?”

“I mean…” She kicked the blanket off of her legs and propped her knees up. “You annoy the crap out of me.”

“Thanks, love.”

“And you’re evil. And a vampire.”

“But?” And she could practically feel the arrogant grin on his face through the phone.

“But…you confuse me.”

“I confuse you? How so?” There was something in his voice then that she hadn’t ever associated with Spike before. He seemed surprised yet guarded, as if she’d said a wealth of things in that statement that she hadn’t intended and he was too afraid to goad her into an explanation. It reminded her of Giles.

“Never mind.” She yawned and stretched her arms high above her head, groaning in pleasure when her back popped. She would never know that the noise she made right then was currently making a vampire shudder. “You know, you’re a lot easier to deal with this way.”

He was quiet for too long, so she said, “Spike?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sure, Slayer.”

“You aren’t even listening to me. You wake me up in the middle of the night and—hey, by the way, where are you calling me from?”

“From…my crypt,” he said cautiously. “Well, now from the cemetery. Got a cell phone after…well, just got one, ok?”

“Ok,” she said with a frown. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Why? Afraid I’ll end the call?” He was chuckling and she found herself sighing with a smile on her face.

“Arrogant ass.”

“Just needed to walk a bit. Feeling antsy. Not going anywhere in particular. But let’s get back to the part where you say how much you like me.”

“I did not say I liked you,” she said, giggling. “I said that you were easier to deal with on the phone.”

“That goes both ways. You’re a lot less self righteous and bitchy.”

“I’m not self righteous! I’m…set in my ways.”

“Bossy.”

“I’m the slayer.”

“Rude, then.”

“I’m not rude.”

“Oh, listen to this! Sweetheart, your denial is starting to lose its charm.”

“And your observations aren’t as flattering any more.”

“Flattered you, did I?”

Shit, he’d caught her. Her cheeks flushed a bit. “Sometimes.” She chewed on her lip and played with the hem of her tee, curling her toes into the mattress.

“Hmmm.” That tone was back in his voice again, the teasing, silken tenor that only now affected her in a way that had always inspired rage before. She didn’t know what he was inspiring now, but it wasn’t unpleasant. “I think I like you best when you’re honest with me.”

“I thought you liked me anyway.” She didn’t mean to sound as seductive as she did right then. Spike must have been just as shocked by it, because he didn’t say a word. For a very long time.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I…uh…” She covered her face with her hand and pulled her knees to her chest. What was she doing? Because she was totally flirting with him. “It’s late. That’s all. Everything I say from this point on can be disregarded as delirium from lack of sleep.”

“Sound pretty awake to me. Admit it. You’re flirting with me.”

“I don’t have to admit anything.”

“But you aren’t denying it, either.”

This was bad. She was getting his hopes up, making him think she…well, what did she think? She didn’t like Spike. Not like that. She was just really tired and he had that sexy voice and they were talking, sharing a real conversation, so it was only natural that she’d fall into the trap of casual flirting, right?

“Remember when we were in the watcher’s bathroom?” he said, reminding her that he was, in fact, still on the phone with her.

“What are you talking about?” She knew exactly what he was talking about. She’d blocked it out for over a year now, recalling the memory only when she was especially lonely, not that she’d ever admit that.

“You remember.” His voice was even lower then and she heard him breathing softly. “I know you remember that.”

“We were under a spell. Nothing either of us said was true.”

“Wasn’t talking about conversation. I’m referring to the kiss you gave me.”

She started breathing shallowly, so she swallowed to calm down. “That was magic.”

“Yeah, it was,” he said huskily. “Damn good kiss.”

She chewed on her thumb and smiled a bit, remembering very vividly grabbing his hands and pulling him into the bathroom. She had pressed him against the wall and kissed him like a lover, kissed him as if she knew every inch of his body. It was hardly risqué but it wasn’t innocent either. Especially not on his end, when his hands started to wander before they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It was all right,” she said, teasing him.

“Oh, and you’ve had better?” He was defensive now and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Please. Like Mr. Initiative knew what he was doing. I’ve seen him with you. Bloody pathetic.”

“Riley wasn’t bad. He just…”

“Wasn’t me.” If he were in front of her right then, she knew he’d be waggling his eyebrows.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“Slayer, if you knew the things I could do to you without even touching you, it would wipe the snark right off your pretty face.”

She grew silent. Anything she said would only give him more ammo and plus, she knew he was probably right. But he shouldn’t be flirting with her, and worse, she shouldn’t like it.

“Yeah, right,” she said quietly, laying down flat on her back.

“Could do it right now. Have you so worked up you’d beg me to come over.” And was it just her, or was he whispering?

“I have a lot of restraint,” she said, teasing the waistline of her panties idly and smiling into the receiver.

“That’s what makes it good, baby. No fun when the chase is easy.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Chasing me?”

“Until your very last breath, love. Now take off your knickers.”

She sat up in bed and gasped. “What?” So her hand had made its way into her panties a second before he said that. But still!

“You heard me. Know you need it. Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

“You are sick.”

He ignored her comment. “It’s safe this way, isn’t it? Not really touching you, seeing you. Just a voice, aren’t I?” A very sexy, very predatory voice, she thought. “Come on, live a little. I’ll make it so bloody good, kitten. I’m a hell of a lot better than a 1-900 number.”

“I’m not going to…to do that! You’re crazy.”

“Buffy,” he said. No one had said her name like that before, as if her name were nothing more than a breath. It made her shiver, and also succeeded in shutting her up for a minute. “Oh, the things I’d do to you…” He trailed off on a sigh and her legs clamped together.

“Like what?” she asked in a tiny voice.

Fortunately, he didn’t make any comment about it; he didn’t laugh or call her out on it. Unfortunately, however, she failed to think about what she was getting into. She was asking a vampire, who had been obsessed with her, loved her, had no propriety, what he wanted to do to her.

“I’d lay you back on that big, frilly bed of yours and take my time simply looking at you. My eyes would drink up every inch of your perfect, lithe little body. I’d tease your lips with mine before I kissed you, tasted you.” He paused, perhaps to calm down, or to wait for her to tell him to stop, or to hear how rapidly she was breathing just then. When she said nothing, he continued.

“I’d want to make it last a while, want to kiss you forever. Press my hips between your thighs and moan into your mouth when I felt how hot you were. But I’m impatient and my hands would trail down your body, barely touching you, until I felt your nipples pucker beneath my fingers.” He inhaled sharply through his teeth and Buffy closed her eyes, imagining everything he’d said. She knew how he kissed, but she’d often wondered what else he was capable of. What his hands would feel like on her flesh. Only now was she opening her mind to the idea, if for nothing else but to have this fantasy one time, in the sanctuary of her own bedroom.

He was right, it was safer this way.

“Take your knickers off,” he whispered desperately.

At three fifty-two in the morning, Buffy Summers, the Chosen One, was sliding her panties down her legs while she lay in bed, panting as she eagerly awaited the details of her enemy’s fantasy.

“Ok,” she said low enough that only he could hear.

“Christ,” he said. “You really did?”

“Yeah.” She really did.

“What are you wearing?”

“Just a tee shirt.”

“Which one? Tell me which one it is.”

“It’s just a white v-neck, nothing special.” She heard him exhaling, the sticky sound of his tongue doing…something.

“I’d trace the neck of your tee with the tips of my fingers, kiss your throat and breathe you in. Lavender, sweat, musk, and something sweet. Always something sweet on you. Drives me crazy. I’d dip my hand beneath the collar until I reached your breasts. You’d arch into my hand and…”

She was following his movements with her own hand, losing herself in the fantasy with her eyes closed. When he stopped, she whimpered, shocking herself that she was already worked up.

“Please say something, Buffy.” His voice was tense and filled with desire, and she had a pretty good idea that she wasn’t the only one touching herself.

“Are you hard right now?”

Fuck yes.”

“Touch me again,” she said softly, her eyelashes fluttering closed.

“Oh, sweetheart. You have any idea what you’re doin’ to me?”

“I have a pretty good idea,” she said, giggling coyly.

When he moaned, a strangled sort of cry lodged itself in her throat and she wondered for a second what that moan would feel like against her neck.

“I’d pull the neckline of your shirt down hard, almost tearing it, desperate to kiss your perfect nipples.”

“Mmm,” she moaned, “how do you know they’re perfect?”

“Because they’re yours. Shut up, I’m busy down here.”

She giggled again, smiling wide when she heard him chuckle.

“I bet you taste amazing. The feel of your warm skin on my lips, Christ, pet. One flick of my tongue over your nipples would undo me. I’d grab the sheets on either side of you just to hold back because I want it to be good for you. Draw you into my mouth and suck your tits.”

His sudden change in tone, from sweet and tender to a masculine appraisal of her femininity made her moan, made her fingers dig into her nipples, trying to imagine his teeth and lips upon her.

“You like that, don’t you? Like it when I suck your nipples. Bet you’d want me to bite ‘em.”

“Yes,” she said, swallowing. “I’d lift my hips hard as soon as you did, grinding into you.”

Hoh.” He let out a shuddering moan. “That would be the end of being nice. Your panties would be gone in an instant.”

“How?” She trailed her hands down the insides of her thighs, cradling the phone between her cheek and shoulder.

“Were you wearing those lacy things?”

She smiled a bit. “The red ones.” She knew he had vast knowledge of her lingerie, a thought that was currently turning her on. “With the black satin bows on the sides.”

She gasped when Spike growled. “Yeah, I’d tear those off so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you until you felt my hand nestled between your thighs.”

Buffy no longer cared that she was whimpering and gasping for air. “Would you touch me right away?”

“I’d touch you once. Curl my fingers up into your wet pussy, bite down harder on your tits as I stroked you before pulling away to tease your hair.”

She gulped. “I don’t…I don’t have any hair.”

There was a noise from the other end, like a strangled sort of groan amid a series of louder crackling noises, as if he’d dropped the cell phone. “Someone owes me for this,” he mumbled. “If you aren’t lying to me…”

“Not lying.”

He sighed raggedly. “If you didn’t have any hair, I’d be…fuck, Buffy. I’d have to taste you. Suck that pretty puss of yours; wrap your legs around my head. Fuck, I’d want you to strangle me with your legs.”

Her middle finger moved quickly between her folds, her hips rising and falling off the mattress. “Oh, God,” she said softly when her arousal got the better of her.

“Are you touchin’ yourself?” He sounded like he might cry or hyperventilate.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. Christ...fuck! I’d want your tongue in my mouth again, need to feel you beneath me as I kissed the breath out of you. Make you taste yourself on my tongue.”

“Mmm…”

“Shit…then…fuck…I’d have to fuck you right then. God, I bet you’re so hot…slick and wet for me, aren’t you?”

When she was able to stop panting, she said, “So wet.”

“Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

She wanted to tell him, she really did. But she was close to coming right then and when she opened her mouth to speak, she realized the call had been disconnected.

“What? No! No!” Buffy heard the dial tone and she panicked, sitting up on the edge of the bed as she hung up the phone. She stared at it, waiting for him to call back. To finish what he’d started.

But it didn’t ring.

She tucked her hair behind her ears, her heart racing and her breath hard and fast. Had he tricked her? Was he just going to leave her like that? Was he—

Something rapped on her windowpane. Her head whipped around to see, and she gasped. He was here. He was here, on the other side of the window. If she opened it, she was crossing the line of safety and into the realm of reality. If she let him in, would she be able to push him out the next day? Could she rationalize this later?

Her feet were already eating up the carpet as she made her way to the window. He looked up at her for a minute, questioningly, as if he, too, had expected her to turn him away. Then his eyes traveled down her white tee to the tantalizing view of her bare legs and when his gaze returned to her face, he was smirking. He tapped slowly on the glass again, staring right at her.

She licked her lips. And raised the window.

“Ran out of battery power,” he said, holding up the dead cell phone.

“Come in,” she said shyly.

He crawled into her bedroom and shut the window behind him, chewing on the corner of his mouth as he waited for her to say something more. She just then realized his jeans were unzipped but he had the notion to button the top up so they wouldn’t fall down his slim hips.

“Buffy.”

But that was all he was able to say before she was kissing him. He moaned, gripped her waist and lifted her up. She didn’t hesitate to wrap herself around him, to shove his duster off his shoulders and allow him to walk her backwards until she hit the wall.

She tugged at his t-shirt until it was gone. He kissed her neck and pressed her harder against the wall, diving back for her lips when his fingers found her nipples through her tee.

“Ohgod,” she said desperately, clenching her thighs around him. “Touch me-touch me-touch me,” she begged, tearing her shirt off for him.

He stared down at her dumbly for a moment, soaking up the image of her naked body before his eyes darkened and locked with hers.

“I’ll touch you,” he said gruffly, smoothing his flattened hand over her mound between them before he teased her opening with deliberate, slow circles. “Do a bit more than that.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders and she closed her eyes. “I’m not going to last long.”

“Says you.” Two fingers twisted their way inside her and she shouted in pleasure. His free hand clamped down over her mouth and he whispered in her ear, “Don’t wake up sis,” right as he fingered her on the sweet spot.

She glared at him with her glassy eyes and gently bit down on the palm of his hand, moaning when he continued to touch her exactly where she needed it.

A languid, sleepy smile crawled over his lips before he licked them both, tilted his head and strummed her clit with his thumb. His nostrils flared when she moaned into his hand and he pressed a bit harder inside her. “I knew. I knew you’d be hot. Gah, Buffy…the feel of you.”

His fingers were pumping hard inside her; his lips were teasing her ears, her neck, her mouth. Cool breath wafted over her heated flesh, and just when she thought he was going to bring her over the edge, he deftly removed his fingers and replaced it with his cock.

“Fuck,” he said, slowly pushing his way inside. Buffy tore her mouth away from his hand and moaned.

“Oh God,” she cried. Wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her forehead to his and took him all the way in. They shared only a moment to gasp in pleasure, to feel the tiny hairs on his abdomen tickle her mound, before he kissed her hard and pulled out slowly. She felt the familiar tightness inside her that came from going too long without sex, that pressure; that burn that lasted only seconds before her body adjusted to his girth. And he moved so slowly at first that it was impossible to miss it, impossible to ignore the invasion of his cock inside her. Her back started to slide down the wall a bit, so he gripped her ass and jolted her upward, slamming his prick inside her hard as if he was nailing her there.

“Oh! God! Oh!” She couldn’t control the volume of her voice, not when he was fucking her like this, pivoting his hips with every thrust and tracing her jugular with his tongue. He slapped his hand over her mouth once more, his large fingers digging into her cheek as his hips moved frantically, smacking against hers.

“So good,” he said, his soft, swollen lips torturing her earlobe with tender kisses. “Buffy, Buffy, Buffy.” He sped up the pace, tugging her into every stroke by the grip to her ass, his chest now slick with her perspiration slid easily over hers, brushing her over-sensitized nipples.

“Kiss me,” she said, tunneling her fingers into his hair, feeling drunk and hot and on the verge of coming.

His tongue flicked over her lips and he tilted his head and did it again before dipping inside to kiss her properly. They were moaning into one another’s mouths, digging their nails into their flesh, gasping, muscles tightening and flexing, memorizing every second. This was unlike any fantasy she’d made up in the past, unlike anything she would have expected. He touched her and her skin sizzled, he breathed and she shuddered. His cock slid in and out of her as if it had always needed to be there. She didn’t want it to end.

But her body had other ideas. He knew the minute she was about to come and suddenly his fingers were plucking at her clit and he leaned back a bit to change the angle of his thrusts. His head dropped forward to watch and he hissed in pleasure.

“Look at us, baby. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

“I’m gonna—”

“I know. Look at me. Please, look at me.”

With whatever strength she had left, she was able to drag her eyes up to his, though they were half closed, and her chest was heaving with the promise of an orgasm. He smiled a bit at her, his hair wrecked from her fingers and his eyes dark and glassy. Suddenly, her back arched away from the wall, her muscles clamped and fluttered around his cock and her mouth opened in a silent cry. He urged her on with soft little rumbles between the kisses he placed on her neck, letting his chest barely touch her with every thrust, increasing her sensitivity. She felt her eyes water and a loud, pleasured sob tore from her throat.

Spike groaned and held her firmly against him as he started to move faster. He was pounding against her, slamming her into the wall, when finally his entire body tensed up so fiercely she saw the veins in his neck. She took over the movements, bouncing over him as she squeezed him, sucking on his lower lip. His forehead fell onto her shoulder, almost wheezing as if he needed to catch his breath.

Buffy felt something then. It was similar to the connection she’d felt with him on her back porch but with a pleasant sort of intensity that continued to creep its way through her body.

His cock was still inside her, his breath danced over her skin, and her nails were drawing patterns in his scalp. Spike lifted his head and searched her eyes for something, his head tilted slightly as he often did when he was especially thoughtful. It was the first time she realized how cute it was.

He inhaled a shaky breath. “This ends tomorrow, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t know how to answer him. She knew that at this exact moment, if nothing else but the two of them existed, she was happy. But the light of day could change everything. This had happened so fast, without any real warning, that she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. So she decided to be honest with him. “I don’t know.”

He nodded, watching the movement of his hand as it skimmed down the side of her rib cage. “I know you don’t…I know you don’t love me.” He was looking at her then, his Adam’s apple quivering as he swallowed hard. “But this was…this meant something to you, didn’t it?”

“Yes, it did.” She smiled softly and kissed him. “I don’t know what it means, but it means something.”

She could tell he was trying not to grin, shielding his eyes from hers as he looked away. He lowered her wobbly legs to the floor but didn’t let her move away from him.

“So…will you let me see you again?”

She placed both hands flat on his chest and sighed as she considered it. “I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, Spike. My head is preoccupied with Glory and Dawn and—”

“I know,” he said softly, placing one hand behind her head to bring her into the kiss he placed on her forehead. He smoothed his hand down her hair. “I’m sorry. Don’t even deserve what you…I’m sorry.” He backed away and she panicked, quickly grabbing his hands.

“I don’t mean never.”

His eyes were wide and vulnerable and his shoulders sagged as he exhaled in awe. “You don’t?”

She chewed on her lip and squeezed his hands in hers. “When everything is over with Glory, and I say when, because I’m so taking her down.” She paused for effect and he laughed softly. “But when it’s over we can…we’ll see.”

“Ok, Buffy.” She never saw him smile that way before. He looked handsome, she thought errantly. So she told him.

“You’re handsome.”

His smile widened. “Lucky you.”

After she playfully swatted him on the shoulder and rolled her eyes, it started to sink in that she was completely naked and that his jeans were around his ankles. He must have sensed that she was on the verge of awkward dismissal because he pulled his jeans up and started to collect his clothing. She did the same; grateful for the bit of courage it gave her to walk him to the window. He straddled the windowsill, waiting for something.

“I uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “Guess I’ll see you around?”

“That sounds kinda lame, huh?” She played with a buttonhole on his duster, leaning her head against the wall by the window. “I mean, after we…”

He laughed, bit his lip in mirth and pulled her forward to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “Just to tie me over until you kick Glory’s ass.”

“Better make it good then.” She kissed him again, savoring the feel of his lips, his hand delicately cupping her cheek, and the tentative swipe of his tongue along the crease of her mouth. It wasn’t long before it turned passionate and she was shocked that he was the one to pull away. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and blinked slowly, contentedly, and let out a tiny sigh.

“Glad I called.”

“Me too.”

She smiled and watched him crawl down to the roof’s edge. He raised his hand in a small wave, his appearance calm and sated, before he jumped to the ground and disappeared in the shadows below. Buffy looked up at the stars and inhaled the cool air, taking a moment to enjoy the peace, the serenity and warmth he’d given her. She knew it wouldn’t last, not when every second of her days had been spent focusing on Glory. But she’d savor it now. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, kneeling at her window and staring at the stars, but exhaustion had finally worked its way through her and the moment was soon gone. She shut the window with a tiny smile on her face, climbed into bed, and in seconds, she was fast asleep.

 

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.

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