Fic: Teenage Dirtbag - 33/? - NC-17 (original) (raw)

Title: Teenage Dirtbag

Pairing: Spike/Xander

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Season 1, so contains young Xander. Some parts may contain mature themes, violence, and graphic sex. You have been warned! Also, this fic is likely to be very long and will be updated whenever the muse feels like it.

Summary: Teenage life on a Hellmouth. Xander has some explaining to do.

Beta'd by kitty_poker1

Written for my darling amejisuto

Previous parts are HERE

Please see Author notes at the end of the chapter.

Xander paced in front of the empty fireplace. He walked the length of the long maroon coloured rug and back again, his hands clenching anxiously at his sides. Spike had been taken upstairs by Angel and, at just about everyone’s insistence, Xander had remained restlessly downstairs.

“This is taking too long,” he said, more to himself that to any of the people watching him pace back and forth.

“Maybe these things take time,” said a voice of reason that was wrenching at Xander’s patience with every spoken syllable.

“How come she’s in the club?!” Xander snapped, addressing Giles but pointing to Miss Calendar. “And what the hell was all that flashy stuff?” he continued, turning towards her. “What are you, some kind of witch?”

“Hey!”

“Well, are you?!”

“Xander,” Giles said patiently. “Perhaps it would be better if you sat down. Let me take a look at -”

Xander lifted one hand to neck, his fingers touching the tender, bruised skin where he’d been held. “I’m fine,” he interrupted.

“Then just sit down.”

“I’d rather pace, thanks very much. I like the exercise.”

“Very well.”

Xander frowned at Giles and continued to walk up and down. Clearly, it wasn’t about the exercise; it was about the need to keep some distance between himself and his friends. He was surprised as hell that no one had freaked out on him yet, but he certainly wasn’t going to count his chickens while they were still slumbering inside their delicate little eggs.

“So who is this guy?” Buffy asked. She was sitting on Angel’s couch, a towel wrapped around her shoulders. Elsewhere, Spring Fling was continuing with everyone enjoying themselves and none the wiser, but Buffy didn’t look bothered about that.

“He’s… He’s a friend of Angel’s. Uh, a sort of relation, actually.”

Giles leaned forward, academic curiosity invading his shocked and relieved expression until he looked exactly like the Giles that Xander knew so well. “But he helped us? He helped you. Why would he do that? Surely he… Another vampire with a soul? But I’ve only ever heard of one.”

Finally Xander stood still. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He was going to tell the truth, and if they reacted badly then he was prepared to stand his ground and fight for Spike’s life; he just prayed that Angel would think enough of Spike to help him do that.

“He doesn’t have a soul.”

“So he’s still evil,” Miss Calendar said. Her arms crossed defiantly and Xander mirrored her.

“Technically, yes,” he said stubbornly. “Why is she still here again?” He glared daggers at her and was pleased and slightly thrown when he noticed Willow doing the same.

Everyone else was looking at him curiously and a little worriedly, like he was in need of therapy or maybe just a soft bed and a decent night’s sleep.

“Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” Giles suggested.

“And you won’t freak out?” Xander asked. “Because I really don’t think I can deal.”

Buffy raised her hand. “I won’t. Promise. The energy requirements for that far exceed my back-up stores. I’m all out of freak.”

Xander looked sadly at her and for the first time since he’d swung Spike’s sword and killed the Anointed One, he remembered that she’d died. He hadn’t been sure how much she’d known about the prophecy, but right at that moment he could tell that she’d known about herself, at the very least.

“You okay, Buff?” he asked.

“Well, I’m not dead and my dress is salvageable, so I’d say I was pretty good. And you’re not dead either,” she pointed out.

Xander’s unconscious slump straightened out a little at that. “Oh, yeah. That’s cool. And handy, too, because I’m supposed to mow the lawn this weekend and that would have been difficult without the being alive thing. Do vamps mow?”

A sudden thought came to him and it made him feel a little bit sick. Did his parents even know where he’d been? Spike had knocked him out for a day and a half, but had anyone bothered to tell his parents that he was staying with a friend or had Spike and Angel neglected to think of that? Oh, he was so dead.

“Are you okay?”

Xander looked up. It was Willow. He hadn’t heard her voice for days and the sound of it, the familiar soft concern, felt like a blanket of comfort had been settled over him.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’m good. Uh, sitting would also be good. You know, due to the slight spinning. Is that me or the room?”

Giles jumped up from his seat and quickly ushered Xander to take his place. “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Or you, Buffy? You’ve both been through quite an ordeal.”

“I’m good,” Buffy replied.

“I just need to know Spike’s okay. I’ll be good then.”

“Right.” Giles nodded and adjusted his glasses in a somewhat clichéd fashion that made Xander feel a touch warmer and safer. “I think you’d best tell us everything.”

So Xander did. Mostly. He started with the first time he’d met Spike, and explained how Spike had saved him from a werewolf and how Spike had been in Sunnydale because he was looking for his lover and how Angel had agreed to help him only with Spike’s promise that he wouldn’t kill. But the search had proved a waste of time when they’d located Spike’s wandering girlfriend only to find that she didn’t want to be with him. Spike had stayed in Sunnydale simply because he was lonely.

Really, the last thing Xander wanted to talk about in a room full of his friends and a teacher that he didn’t know very well was his sexuality; Xander barely had a grasp on that himself. Now was not the time to make it public knowledge and he hoped that Willow would respect that and keep quiet. He also hoped that she wouldn’t put two and two together and come up with the magic number: Spike.

“He could still be very dangerous, Xander,” Giles said. “You don’t know anything about this…vampire.”

“I do know. I’ve done my research and I know exactly who he is. Heard of William the Bloody?”

Giles’ eyes widened. “Good Lord,” he exclaimed softly. “The William the Bloody? That would make him…Angel’s grandchilde?”

Xander nodded.

“And you know his history, what he’s done, what he’s capable of?”

“Yes, I know. I know everything. But he’s different now. He’s changed. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Buffy asked.

Xander shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, sort of. He’s chang_ing_. He’s not like other vampires. He’s in control of the demon part.”

“Xander,” Giles said, “a vampire is all demon. There is nothing else.”

“That’s wrong.”

“It isn’t wrong. The Watcher Diaries -”

“Are a crock of shit,” Xander interrupted. “I’m sorry to be harsh, but they’re totally biased.” He looked pleadingly at Buffy. “You know I’m right, Buff. Angel is more than a demon. Maybe he’s got the soul an’ all but there had to be more than just a demon in the first place for that to work.”

“Hey, if anyone’s on Angel’s team it’s me but, Xand, he was no cuddly bunny before the soul.”

“I know that. But what I’m saying is that there had to be a man underneath for the soul to make a difference. I mean, think about all the serial killers and child molesters in the world. They have souls, right? But they’re still monsters.”

Buffy frowned and Xander thought perhaps she looked a little annoyed.

“Look,” he said. “I know I’m not making much sense here. I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

There was an awkward tension in the room and Xander wondered if it felt worse for them than it did for him.

Eventually, after a lapse in Things to Say Tactfully, it was Willow who spoke. “You mean, even when Angel gained a soul he could have been a bast – uh, a not nice person - but he chose to help people. At least, he did eventually.”

She smiled faintly at him and Xander’s heart lifted. He smiled back and nodded. “Exactly.”

“Xander, the soul was responsible for that,” Giles said, shaking his head and taking up Xander’s place pacing back and forth by the unlit fireplace.

“It wasn’t! It was Angel! The man beneath, Liam – a totally sober Liam. I don’t know how, Giles, but I’m telling you, there’s more to this. Spike has saved my life so many times now. We’re…friends. How could that be if he was completely evil?”

“Have you ever thought that maybe he wants something?”

There was a little voice, way in the back of Xander’s head, that was listening to Giles and had always been asking that question. Spike was a very clever vampire; he hadn’t survived two hundred years of making trouble by being dumb about it.

No matter how much he wanted to deny it, it was a possibility. But Xander felt so sure that it wasn’t the case, that the only thing Spike wanted was him. That was what it came down to. Spike was still a demon and he was a vampire, but he loved Xander and that was why he was doing what he was doing.

Spike wasn’t saving the world and ridding it of all evil for the sake of good. Giles was right; Spike was doing it because he wanted something. He wanted Xander.

“Look, I know all this sounds screwed up and I’m well aware that I’m a complete hypocrite – sorry, Buff – and that morally I’m on real shaky ground here, but Spike is more than just an average vamp. He’s doing his best to turn over a new leaf. Angel is keeping a very close eye on him and he did just help save the world. I gave him a chance and look at what he did for us. I think you all owe him a chance, too.”

“And what if that chance kills you?” Giles said. He stared at Xander intently and Xander knew it was a genuine question and not just an arguing point.

“It won’t.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I can.”

“And what about the rest of us? Do you think your friendship with Spike will stop him from killing your friends?”

“It will.” But the reply hadn’t come from Xander. It had come from Angel. He descended the last step, looking paler than usual, and stopped. “He won’t harm any of you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Giles asked.

“Because I know him,” Angel replied. “And because he’s given his word.”

Giles looked very dubious and Xander couldn’t really blame him.

“Is he okay?” he asked Angel.

Angel nodded. “He’ll be fine. You can go up now. It’s safe.”

“I don’t think so!” Giles said, striding over to Xander as he stood and grasping his arm. “I can’t in good conscience allow this.”

Maybe Xander should have felt angry, but he was too tired for that. His brain was washing over with combined relief that Buffy was okay, he was okay and Spike was okay – even Angel.

There was something else, too. Xander felt touched. Giles cared enough to try to intervene. He had a feeling that his own dad would have simply walked out in disgust. Or maybe he was wrong. Really, it depended what day of the week it was and how much his dad had drunk recently.

“You know what, Giles?” Xander said. He smiled warmly at him. “You totally and completely rock.”

Giles let go of his arm in shock. “I…oh. Right.”

“But I’m going upstairs to see Spike. By myself. You saw him save my life and I’ve been alone with him loads of times. It’s cool. You don’t have to worry.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I have a responsibility. I’m Buffy’s Watcher. I–I–I’m an adult. I–I’m the school librarian and… Oh, bugger, this is coming out all wrong.”

“It’s okay, G-Man,” Xander said, putting a hand on Giles’ shoulder. “I get it. And thank you.”

Xander walked away, leaving a bewildered Giles behind.

“Xand?” Buffy called, standing up. She looked hesitant, like the left side of her brain was arguing with the right side over what was best for her friend. To a certain extent, Xander knew she understood and, really, he wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to play her Best Friend Knows Best card.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked.

Xander nodded. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”

She looked quizzically at him for a moment, then her eyes widened. “Uh, okay. Um, we should talk. Later. If you want to. Tomorrow? Come to my house at, say, the crack of dawn?”

Xander smiled and felt a little sick at the same time. Buffy knew.

**

“Is it okay to come in?”

“’Course. Get your arse in here.” Spike dragged himself up and sat back against the pillows. His bare chest was paler than normal, almost the same colour as the bandage wrapped around it and over his shoulder.

“Are you…? I can’t believe you’re even sitting up.”

Spike grinned and licked his lips. “Had myself a feast, didn’t I? Angel fixed me right up.”

Xander’s hormones surged at that and Spike’s grin morphed into something a little more wicked.

“Like that, eh? Who’s a naughty boy, then?”

Xander ducked his head, flushed, begged his dick not to respond and sat down on the bed. “I think that would probably be me.”

“There’s something to remember for the future.”

A picture popped into Xander’s head. He was naked and pressed between two equally naked vampires. Spike was kissing him, deep and wet, while Angel rubbed up behind him, his big, hard cock pushing inside him.

“So, we’re all alive,” Xander said quickly, shaking his head as though that alone could shake up the picture like an Etch-a-Sketch.

“Yeah. We are.” The leer dissolved away and in its place was an expression Xander hadn’t seen before. Spike reached out and touched Xander’s cheek. “Come here, luv.”

They kissed slowly, just taking the time to taste each other and take comfort. When they finally pulled away and leaned their foreheads together, Xander felt like he was floating.

“Thank you for not being dead,” he said.

Spike’s arms slid around him. “Couldn’t leave you, could I? We’ve got a lot to do yet.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what?” Xander asked. He toed off his sneakers and lounged against Spike’s good side, head resting against the tall stack of pillows.

“Blow jobs, of course. And then there’s sex; got lots of that to do. Maybe a bit of rimming.”

Xander laughed. “Is there anything that doesn’t involve this bed?”

“’Course there is!” Spike leaned closer and whispered in Xander’s ear, “Gotta fuck you against the wall outside The Bronze.”

Xander’s mouth went suddenly dry and he considered the need to open the window.

“You have a one track mind,” Xander said.

Spike squeezed Xander’s crotch, grinning at the hardness he found there. “I’m not the only one.”

“Stop being evil,” Xander chided, glancing back at the door. “Someone might come in.”

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Spike said, but he pulled his hand away anyway and took Xander’s hand instead, stroking his fingers and caressing the knuckles. “Speaking of which, how the hell did that happen?”

“Did what happen?”

“You up here on your tod. Shouldn’t there be someone up here trying to stake me?”

“Please don’t tempt fate. Really, they’re taking this way too well.”

Spike was quiet for a moment and he continued to trace the outline of Xander’s hand, turning it over and caressing the palm with his thumb. “Did you tell them?” he asked, a little too casually to sound convincingly nonchalant. “About us, I mean.”

“I told them we were friends.”

“Oh.”

“But I think they know,” Xander quickly added, sure that Spike looked hurt, or at least sort of hoping he did. “Well, Buffy does. She kind of got this wide-eyed look of comprehension. It was either that or she’d just realised there was a shoe sale on. Maybe it was both,” he said, tilting his head in consideration.

“Right. Still not quite comprehending why I’m not battling Slayer number three.”

Xander shrugged. “It is weird. I think. Then again, I’m kind of not surprised. Which is surprising, in a not surprised sort of way. You know?”

Spike shook his head. “Nope.”

“Well, I think it’s like, she’s got this whole dramatic love thing going on with Angel so she gets it. She’s not going to stake you on principle because then she’d have to do the same with her own boyfriend. And besides, she’s my friend. And oh god, she probably thinks I’m gay.”

Spike looked puzzled. “You are gay.”

“Well, duh, but – but… I might freak out now. Oh god, what if she hates me?”

“For being a pouf? Don’t be daft.”

Xander glared.

“Pet, you just helped save her skinny arse and the world. She’s not going to hate you for wanting a bit of cock.”

Xander grimaced and wished Spike didn’t still have a painful gash in his chest. He really deserved a punch. “How did you get so crude?”

Spike snorted to himself in amusement and hugged Xander closer. It felt suspiciously like snuggling, but Xander wasn’t cruel enough to vocalise that.

“Were you always…like this?” Xander asked, wondering again about William. There wasn’t much known about the man that had become the notorious Spike except his first name. He obviously hadn’t been anyone of historical note or the least that would have been written about him would have been his last name.

“Clarify ‘like this’? Have I always been devilishly handsome?” Spike said. He tensed for a second after he had spoken and Xander looked up him and then over at the door.

“What?”

Spike stared a second longer, then relaxed. He shook his head and petted Xander wherever he could reach, the sudden tension draining away as quickly as it had come. “Nothing, luv. Carry on. Have I always been like what?”

“Like this. Like you are now. All rough and, you know, Spikish.”

Spike laughed. “Spikish, am I? Right, that narrows it down.”

Xander sat forward and twisted around, frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words to ask what he wanted. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted to know about William. Maybe it was about wanting to know everything there was to know about Spike, from his birth and his turning right down to his preference in slushies, or maybe it was about affirmation: Xander needed to know that he’d been right when he’d argued that there was more than just a demon beneath Spike’s skin.

“I mean, before you were turned -”

“I know what you mean. No, I wasn’t always like this. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Oh. Oh, okay.” Xander ducked his head and knew he wasn’t entirely hiding his disappointment.

“Don’t look so down about it. I was a prat. And I was a poet.”

Xander looked up again. A lopsided smile slowly appeared. “Really?”

“Yep. A bad one, though. Or so they said. I like to think I was unappreciated in my own time. Angelus liked my poetry, though. Well, I reckon he did. He never said, but I could tell.”

“You still wrote after you were turned?”

Spike nodded. He looked suddenly shy, like he’d just realised he’d revealed too much. “Never was able to quite kick that habit. Bloody ponce, I am.”

“Do you write the same sort of stuff?”

Spike nodded again. “Like I said, it stayed with me.”

Xander’s smile grew wide.

“What?” Spike asked.

Xander shook his head and settled back against Spike’s side. He kissed Spike’s soft lips and stared into the warmest shade of blue he’d ever seen. “Nothing.”

**

Buffy Summers pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders and moved quietly along the corridor. She was in two minds, which was typical considering that she had two lives.

In one life she was the Slayer, the Chosen One, the one girl blah blah; she had a job to do and responsibilities to carry out, and one of those responsibilities was to rid the world of evil.

In her other life, she was a sixteen year old high school student. She was blonde, pretty and had a great pair of legs, if she did say so herself. Her biggest problem was deciding if open-toed was the way to go this summer. And that side of herself, the side she often dreamed was the only one, had a friend who had found himself another friend. There was gayness afoot and Buffy desperately wanted the dish.

The first version, the one with biceps of rock and a head for the undead was on full alert. Just several feet away from her was one of the world’s most notorious vampires, and he was alone with one of her allies, her friend.

Instinct was a handy thing to possess and some people did better with it than others. Buffy’s intuitions as a Slayer were improving by the day and she did just fine with them, thank you very much. It was a deep feeling that often crept up on her, a tingling that felt as ancient as it did trusted.

But the really wiggy thing? The other version of herself, the shoe-buying, toe nail-painting version, had an instinct, too, and it was fighting her. It told her to back away and throw everything she knew as a Slayer out the window.

Xander had said that he’d earned her trust and he was right. Spike had saved Xander and definitely deserved kudos for that. But as she turned away and made her way back downstairs, she realised with startling clarity that this decision had been made a long time before, a precedent put in place without her even really comprehending it. She thought of Angel, smiled, and looked forward to a summer in LA. Maybe she could even convince Angel to visit.

End of Season One

TBC…

Thank you to everyone that has been reading and enjoying this fic and to those that have nom'd and voted and judged it for numerous awards of which Teenage Dirbag has won nine so far(squeeee).

I hope you've had as much fun as me. Teenage!Xander is certainly fun to play with and evil!Spike is even more fun. I'm going to stop here for a break to gather my thoughts for the next 'season' and to work on some other, smaller projects that have been eating at my brain. I do hope you'll all be here when I return in about a month and perhaps you guys could do me a favour? Could you tell me what you've enjoyed about this fic, what basically has kept you reading and let me know if you have any thoughts or expectations for the coming year.

Thanks again and Teenage Dirtbag will be with you again soon.