Buffy hadn’t meant to find herself outside Spike’s door at two in the morning. In fact, she’d been determined to stay as far away from Spike as she could whilst they were in LA. Yet somehow, that’s exactly where she’d arrived.
Well, not somehow. Not really. She’d tried going to bed early, with a vague plan of sleeping as much of the weekend away as possible. The sooner it was over, the sooner she would be home and preparing to leave—thus removing her from the painful feelings she experienced whenever she was in his presence.
But she couldn’t sleep.
Every minute she lay in bed was torturous, knowing he was only a little ways down the hall. So close, but seemingly so far.
So she’d laid in her bed, kept awake by longing. That is until it became too much to bear and she’d decided to get up for a drink of water.
Which had turned into visiting the bathroom. Followed by trying to sleep again, before the tossing and turning convinced her maybe a walk would help her to shake off the unsettled feelings pooling in her belly.
That’s how she came to be where she was now, her feet directing her left towards Spike, instead of right towards the elevator as she’d intended.
Minutes passed by while she stood, frozen with indecision. As far as she could tell, there were only two paths before her.
Option one, she could turn around and go back to her room. But then she’d always wonder what would’ve happened if only she’d found the courage to knock.
Option two, meant taking one more step, and raising her arm.
The mere thought of deliberately putting herself in close quarters with him brought a shiver down her spine. It was an electric feeling, both terrifying and somehow freeing at the same time.
And in that moment, she knew she’d decided.
Buffy took that step. She raised her hand. But instead of knocking, she splayed her palm across the surface of the door. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do that to him or to her. Leaving in a week’s time was already going to be hard enough as it was. Choosing to spend more time together would only make the separation more painful.
She closed her eyes, and lowered her head slowly, until her forehead connected with the door with a noise so quiet it was almost inaudible.
Goodbye… she thought.
Buffy didn’t know if it was the whoosh of air, or the lessening of pressure she noticed first, but either way she was falling.
Her eyes flashed open as she tumbled into the room through the now open door, and crashed head first into Spike’s hard chest.
“Woah, careful love,” Spike admonished, his arms automatically coming up to steady her.
With reddening cheeks Buffy righted herself, brushing her hair away from her face, and taking a small step back. “Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
“Fall head over heels?” Spike smirked wryly. “Not your fault, I’m pretty hard to resist.”
Buffy pushed Spike playfully. “Arrogant jerk.”
When she went to take another step back Spike stopped her retreat. He captured her hand, and with deliberate slowness moved it back to his chest, pressing it firmly against the muscle.
Right over his heart.
Buffy’s eyes immediately began to well with tears at the beautifully poignant action. Because without words, he was telling her everything she wanted to hear.
But it couldn’t be, their fates were already decided. In a week she’d be gone, and she’d likely never see him again. Perhaps it was that thought, that caused another to rush through her mind.
Seize the moment, because tomorrow you might be dead.
While a little morbid, it was also true. If she was giving up her life—in terms of her freedom—she may as well make the best of the time she had left. She couldn’t promise him forever, couldn’t even promise him anything past tomorrow.
But they could have tonight.
Buffy leant into him.
~*~*~
This was a familiar dance for them, and Spike immediately knew her intentions. But no matter that his mind was telling him to stop, to get her to talk to him, to open up so that he could help her sort through whatever it was that had her standing outside his door in the middle of the night, the feel of her gentle hand on his cheek froze him. He blinked, but he didn’t move.
She moved slowly, so, so slowly, as if she were scared to startle him. When they were close enough he could almost count her lashes he closed his eyes and waited. Then she pressed her lips against his.
It was soft, almost featherlike, barely even a kiss at all, but instantly an inferno of desire, of emotion was awakened within him. Only their lips connected but Spike knew he needed more, needed all of her.
He broke the kiss, even as her hands clung to his shirt, and he tried to stop things before they progressed too far.
“Buffy—”
“Please,” she begged, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Please just kiss me.”
Spike started to shake his head, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—not when she was obviously distressed about something. If he were any sort of gentleman he’d walk her to her room and bid her goodnight immediately. While he had the strength to break her kiss, kicking her out of his room was not something he could do.
“Whatever it is, I can help.”
Buffy shook her head in denial. No, it was too late for help. What she wanted was to feel wanted, to feel needed. To feel loved. Spike could do that for her, he made her feel special, and that’s what she craved most at this very moment. It might be selfish, it is selfish she thought, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t couldn’t fight the desire burning within her, nor did she want to.
Her eyes, still glistening with tears, met his and Spike was once more blown away by the unimaginable sorrow she held there.
“Don’t you want me?”
Her words were whispered, but it was like she shouted them. They bowled into Spike, forcing an immediate reply from his.
“Always.” And he meant it. “More than anything.”
“We were good together,” Buffy breathed, brushing against him, eliciting the desired response when Spike inhaled a shaky breath. “Wasn’t it good?”
“Yes,” Spike vowed, his body responding to hers in ways he wished he could bring under control. “I just don’t think we should do it again.”
Buffy reeled back like he slapped her. “What?”
Apologies bubbled from his lips without thought. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I am, god… I want you so much, more than anything. But we just keep hurting each other, and—”
“What about what I want?” she argued fiercely. “Do my feelings count?”
“Buffy—”
She interrupted him. “I want you.”
Spike closed his eyes against her admission. He’d dreamed of hearing her say that, over and over again, since they’d broken up, and she has to say it now? When he had just found the strength to let her go?
This time when he said her name, it was barely above a whisper. “Buffy…”
“You owe me, Spike.” Her eyes plead with him, and she surprised herself with the hardness in her voice. “After everything we’ve been through, don’t we deserve some happiness? Please do this for me. Let me have you, be with you.”
Her words were like a sword in the chest, reminding him of all the hurt and the pain he’d caused her, not to mention the almost taking of her life. Her tone had become increasingly desperate, and if Spike had slowed things down and focussed not just on what she was saying but how she was saying it, he might have wondered what was driving her to be so persistent.
Buffy could see that he was going to argue with her again, and she was not going to accept that. In this moment she fell a little bit more in love with him. He was trying so hard to do the right, to be noble. To be do what he thought was best for her.
Well screw that, she wasn’t going to let him.
Tugging on his shirt she pulled his lips down to hers. Earlier softness was banished, this kiss was hungry, and desperate.
Like a house of cards Spike folded, surrendering to his feelings, his muscled arms banding her waist. He let everything go but the feeling of her in his arms, and it was like coming home. He’d been lost but then she’d found him and all was right with the world.
Spike drew her to him and heard her breathy little sigh, making him pull her even closer, until he could feel the clean line of her body connecting with his. Lip to lip, chest to chest, hip to hip, all the way down, chests heaving in time as their lips battled for dominance. He backed her up against the nearest wall, pinning her closer to him until she couldn’t move, until he had her exactly where he wanted her, needed her, all without breaking the lock of their lips.
The kiss grew in passion, and when Buffy lifted a leg and wrapped it around his hip Spike felt closer to Heaven then he had ever been before. She was tugging at his shirt, and he mourned the momentary loss of her lips on his when she broke away to dispense with the offending item. Not soon enough he reclaimed her luscious lips, devoting his full attention to worshipping them as they so deserved.
Spike palmed her ass, and then hoisted her into his arms. Her legs locked around him instantly. Holding her body tight against his Spike moved away from the wall and stumbled toward the bed. They fell in a tangled mess of limbs, not once breaking their lips.
Buffy’s entire being was shouting ‘Yes!’ as Spike’s talented hands roamed her body. His fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, popping them one by one until it was split down the front. She moaned into the kiss when Spike’s hands began caressing her naked flesh, sending her temperature soaring.
She fumbled with his button fly impatiently, a sense of triumph washing over her when the last button popped, and then pushed his jeans off his hips, his cock springing free to her waiting hands.
Spike’s entire body shuddered at the feel of her hand encircling him, coherent thought failing him.
“Oh god, Buffy…”
He said her name so reverently Buffy’s stomach flip-flopped with emotion. Hands fisting in his hair she dragged his lips across hers, branding ownership. Spike was hers, she felt it in every kiss, every caress, and in that moment she was completely and wholly his.
Spike cradled Buffy in his arms as he sat up, removing her open shirt and bra and quickly dispensing with her skirt and panties. She was naked in his arms, something he had thought would never happen again and he wasn’t going to waste a moment. He tried to pull back from her kiss, to take in the sight of her, but she wouldn’t allow it.
“Don’t stop kissing me,” Buffy murmured against his lips as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling them back down onto the bedspread.
Spike obeyed, really kissing her. Softly at first, pretty little kisses that conveyed just how precious she was to him. Then his lips trailed along her jaw, slow and tenderly, making her moan involuntarily. She tilted her head back, giving him greater access to her neck, which he readily accepted, laving a trail of well kisses to the shell of ear and causing a shiver to go up her spine. Finally, Spike returned to her lips, kissing her with such passion, such intensity. He sucked her bottom lip between his, then edged his soft tongue just past her teeth and Buffy opened her mouth, desperate for more. Instead of fear at the greatness of her need for him, she felt her yearning grow. She battled him, matched the force of his kisses with her own.
Buffy reached between them, her hand finding Spike’s erection, and gripped him. He gasped into her mouth, his body going taut above her as she stroked him. Her fingers quickly became sticky with his pre-cum, her hand sliding up and down his shaft with greater ease.
“Uhhhhnn,” Spike groaned. Oh god…
Spike’s entire body was a ball of zinging nerves, Buffy’s touch bringing him closer and closer to release. His breath sawed out in desperate little pants and he pulled her closer to him. The combination of her hand wrapped around him, and the squirming of her body beneath him, was making it very hard for Spike to concentrate. Before he could tell her to stop, that he wasn’t going to last much longer, he felt her lead him to her entrance and Spike surged forward.
A strangled cry of pleasure was torn from Spike’s lips, a wanton mewl from Buffy’s when they came together completely.
Spike’s eyes damn near rolled back in his head when Buffy wrapped her legs around his hips, deepening the contact. “Oh, Buffy!”
“Nnnyaaahhh!”
Buffy’s hips lifted from the bed, meeting each thrust of his hips with one of her own. Her fingers bit into his upper arms, nails digging in with each downstroke. She felt so full, so blissfully complete. She arched her back, pushing her breasts up against Spike’s chest, and she closed her eyes when he thrust harder in response. He penetrated her deeper, and her breaths became desperate little pants that coloured the air.
“Harder!” she demanded, and then claimed his lips with hers again.
Spike’s mouth made love to Buffy’s, the thrusts of his hips matching the gentle exploration of her mouth with his tongue. When she sucked his lower lip between hers, and squeezed her legs around his hips, effectively forcing him deeper, Spike’s gentle teasing faded as he thrust in earnest. Deeper, harder; each withdrawal left him yearning for more, so the return quickly followed, speeding up their coupling. Her pebbled nipples brushed across his chest with each movement, and Spike’s left hand snaked along her body to capture one of the rosy buds for himself. When his hand brushed her sensitised flesh Buffy whimpered with pleasure, and he smiled against her mouth.
Spike’s knees began to tremble, and he didn’t know how much longer he was going to last. He was fighting a losing battle, it was only a matter of time before she brought him over the edge, but Spike refused to fall without her.
“Oh god!” Buffy gasped, feeling herself drawn closer to climax. She was mindless with need, rocking against Spike as she tried to find her release. “Spike…”
It was her name on his lips that did it for him, that unlocked the door to his heart. He was open and vulnerable and she had the ability to hurt him like no other. Spike was determined to make things work this time, she’d graced him the chance to set things right, and he was going to show her that he could be a better man, be what she deserved. But he needed to know she felt the same, needed to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
“Tell me it’s always been me,” he implored, drawing back to stare into her eyes.
The desperation in Spike’s eyes rent Buffy speechless, and when he thrust again hers fell shut. She was a mess of desire, the combination of his lips and his fingers and his cock combining adding to her trouble finding words. The sensation of building orgasm was growing deep in her belly, her flesh burning when Spike’s hands caressed her. The last time they’d been together—the only other time—she’d thought their connection was perfect, their act of making love incomparable. Tonight they’d broken new ground, the sex surpassing her memories of the before, raising the bar of perfect even higher.
“Please, baby,” Spike begged, stealing her lips for a kiss. “Tell me, tell me that—”
Buffy opened her eyes and nearly drowned in the love and adoration she saw shining from Spike’s, and her lips moved without thought. “It’s always been you.”
Her confession increased Spike’s rhythm, and Buffy could swear she saw tears glistening in his eyes before his lips captured hers once more. And the emotion she’d seen in his eyes, she felt it in his kiss, bringing tears to her own. His fingers slipped between them, manipulated her clit and then before she even realised she’d reached the pinnacle she was falling, falling, falling into a pit of ecstasy, his name on her lips.
“Ooooh, Spiiike!”
“Love you! Love you so damn much, Buffy.” The confession was involuntary but he didn’t regret it for a second. Spike had been teetering on the edge of orgasm himself, trying to hold back until Buffy came, and the fluttering of her inner walls stole his control and pushed him over.
“Loveyouloveyouloveyou!” he babbled as he cried out his release, collapsing on top of her as his strength gave out.
They lay like that, entwined together, for how long he didn’t know. Spike rested his head against Buffy’s shoulder as he fought for to regain his breath, his pants echoed by hers. Not wanting to crush her into the mattress Spike rolled to the side, wrapping Buffy up in his arms as he moved.
Within minutes she was asleep. Spike lay there watching her, kissing her forehead and gently stroking her hip. He almost couldn’t believe what had just happened, and he tightened his embrace of her. When she murmured something he loosened his hold and rolled onto his back, then tucked her against his side.
He wasn’t going to let her go. Not this time.
Before too long he also succumbed to sleep.
~*~*~
When Spike woke the next morning, Buffy was gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter End Notes:
So that happened. *shuffles feet*
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