Fic: Teenage Dirtbag - 10/? - NC-17

[suki_blue]

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 and Spike go on a date. Xander has several thoughts about several things.

Beta'd by kitty_poker1

Written for my darling amejisuto

Previous parts are HERE




Xander glanced up at the clock and wondered who the hell was in charge of time. Who was it that decided when time would go slowly and when it would go fast? He’d expected the morning to drag like a man in a dress – morning classes always did, especially Math – but he’d expected much more from lunch.

“You gonna eat those fries?” Buffy asked, snatching some away before Xander even had time to reply.

“No. I mean, yeah. Help yourself.”

Buffy frowned. “That didn’t quite compute.”

“Is everything okay?”

Xander glanced up from his food to see Willow staring at him with a concerned expression. It was the same expression he saw every time he was being quiet or feeling tired or sick or even just when his mind had drifted temporarily to another place. Mostly it gave him a feeling of being cared for, but today, for vampire related reasons, it only made him feel irritable. He didn’t want to be under the microscope. He didn’t want every word, action or reaction analysed and talked about.

What he wanted was to fester in a pit of his own self-loathing for being such a weak-minded freak.

“Good, good,” he finally forced out. “Everything is good. Are you good?”

“We’re good,” Willow replied, concerned look still in place.

“Good,” Xander said.

Willow and Buffy exchanged a look.

“What?” Xander asked. He was bordering on snappy.

Buffy stole another fry. “You just seem…rattled.”

“Is it because of this morning?” Willow asked. “Because we got mad about the test?”

And what exactly was he supposed to say? No, Wills. It’s because I have a coffee date with a vampire. It’s no biggie. He’s just like Angel but without the soul. And better hair.

“I just didn’t sleep too well.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “You mean you stayed up all night watching weird Japanese cartoons again?”

He’d done that twice last week. “You got me,” Xander lied. “Gotta love those big…eyes.” He grinned his sleaziest grin and received a hard swat from Buffy.

The conversation lightened from there on and Xander soon became distracted by talk of the antics of the cheerleading squad. Once again, the man/woman/demon in charge of time saw fit to speed up the clock and before any of them could blink or say ‘gosh, is that the time?’ it was last period. American Literature.

Xander had actually already read the book they were going to study. It was a near miracle. It wasn’t that Xander didn’t read books. In fact, he was a big reader. It was just that he didn’t read the type of book that was normally studied in American Lit.

At the start of the semester the teacher had gone around the class and asked what the last three books they had read were. It had been surprising that nearly half the class hadn’t been able to fully answer the question. But they hadn’t got quite the dirty look that he’d received when he announced that his last three books had consisted of a murder mystery, a Star Trek The Next Generation novel and a third reading of Jurassic Park.

Hey, what was the dirty look for? Maybe he wasn’t reading Shakespeare, but did that totally invalidate his choice in books? Why was there stigma attached to reading such fiction? Was he really a freakazoid, as declared suddenly by Simon Stoby, who always sat at the back, chewed too much gum, and had difficulty even reading the TV guide?

No. Star Trek was cool.

Dinosaurs rocked.

And who didn’t love a good murder?

Xander studied the clock again and this time was dismayed to find there were only five minutes left of school. This threw up a whole new set of problems. This meant that he’d have to go home, panic for a few hours and then meet Spike. Or blow him off. Yeah, he could just stand him up!

But then again, Spike probably wouldn’t appreciate that. And the last thing Xander needed was Spike hunting him down in a rage or a tantrum or…whatever British people did. And besides, he really did want to see Spike. It must be that whole death wish thing again.

And that started Xander thinking. What did he really know about Spike? What did he even know about vampires in general? Really, his only points of reference were fledges that went ‘poof’ the second they crossed Buffy, and Angel, who was not exactly the ideal example to go by.

And that started Xander thinking even more. What did he even know about The Slayer, about her power and where she came from? And how many had come before her? When did this all start?

There was so much that he didn’t know and, while that had always bothered him a little, suddenly it seemed like he really should know much more, all things considered.

That gave Xander another thought. He was on one hell of a roll. And really? It was too many thoughts for any normal day, never mind a day such as this. He shelved the thought as the bell rang and concentrated on getting his books into his school bag without freaking out over Spike and doing something stupid.

All he had to do was go home, get ready and not panic. Easy.

**

Xander was panicking.

Spike was a murderer! A serial killer! British!!

What am I thinking? He’s a dangerous fiend. He’s killed…okay, I have no idea how many people he’s killed, but I’m betting it’s a whole lot. And I’m, what, justifying this?

A muffled question concerning food floated up the stairs and penetrated Xander’s room. He flung open the door, shouted, “I’M NOT HUNGRY!” and flung it shut again.

So, the guy has a cool coat and – literally – a killer smile, and I automatically forget about him eating…kittens and babies. Although, there are too many children in the world. We could do with a few less.

Xander clamped his hand over his mouth in shock. Okay, he hadn’t actually said that out loud so it didn’t count.

“I really am going to hell.”

“Yeah? Get me a pack of cigarettes while you’re there? There’s a good boy.”

Xander turned around and lowered his hand to his hip. “Dad! You’re supposed to knock!”

Tony Harris shrugged. “Forgot. Aren’t you having dinner with us? Your mother’s doing something special.”

“I’m not hungry.” Why were all adults deaf? “And I’m going out.” Xander watched his father carefully.

A frown and an internal debate seemed to be going on before Tony shrugged again and stepped back into the doorway. “Your loss. Don’t be late home,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“I won’t.” He knew he probably would be, but Xander was damn sure his parents wouldn’t notice. Not by that time.

The sound of bottles clinking together drifted from below and Xander nodded to himself. Yep, definitely, no one was going to notice. He just hoped his mother was sensible enough to cook her special dinner before cracking open a bottle of vodka. The last thing they all needed was another kitchen fire.

Anyway, best not think about that. Much more important things to think about, like what in the hell was he going to wear?!

Xander looked down at the big pile of clothes on his bed and winced. The colours were so bright they would have blinded an already blind person and churned the stomach of a warrior. Why was it that cheap clothes were always so colourful? Maybe yellow and orange cost less to produce. Huh.

Xander sorted through the pile, discarding everything in his path. He liked his clothes, he really did, but tonight he wanted, needed to wear something a little less obvious, something a little less Xandery. Blending into the background was key here. Wearing a green and bright purple Snoopy t-shirt just wouldn’t do.

“Ah-ha!” Like a colourless vortex in the centre of a shining galaxy of stars sat a black leg of denim. Xander pulled on it and revealed a very normal looking pair of jeans. “Perfect. If they still fit.”

While he searched through the rest of the pile, Xander wondered what Spike would wear. He couldn’t imagine him in anything other than black and red. It suited him. It was kinda eighties but it was still a definite look. A certain Spikey style.

Xander went back to the thought he’d had earlier in the day. He needed to know more. Every time some new nasty came to town Xander did the research thing. With Willow, Buffy and Giles, they solved the mystery and went on to the next. But somehow he always felt like he was in the dark.

Giles knew everything about the occult. He always had theories and a list of suspects for any given situation. And Willow, well, while she didn’t know all that much about all things Hellmouthy, she did catch on very quickly. And she knew everything about everything else.

And then there was Buffy and, while she wasn’t big on the book thing, she did have a certain set of skills that kept her firmly in the game.

I need to know more, Xander thought. I’m gonna learn more. Starting with Spike, Angel and The Master. “I’m gonna be book guy!”

With a big grin, Xander pulled out a dark blue t-shirt that also looked a little small and had seen better days. He completely ignored the little voice in his head that was telling him he wouldn’t like what he found out about Spike. And there was the issue of Giles. Should he ask for his help or should he sneak around behind his back and help himself to whatever he needed? It’s not like it would be hard to track down books on The Master. And would Giles laugh at him if asked for help? Tell him that he was incapable?

The grin faded and he put his t-shirt and jeans ‘neatly’ aside in a pile on the floor.

Xander showered and tried not to worry.

**

Spike set down two drinks and took a seat. He’d chosen a table near the back for several reasons. He wasn’t sure how many friends Xander had, but tonight he didn’t intend to share. He wanted Xander all to himself.

It seemed liked an age since he’d really talked to anyone, connected to anyone. With Xander he’d felt an immediate attachment and an immediate urge to tell him everything and anything. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was love at first sight.

Spike laughed at himself and received strange looks from the table next to him. “What? Problem?” His top lip curled and his blue eyes blazed with menace.

A boy, not much older than Xander, tried to glare back, teenage pride not allowing him to cave in and look away from the weirdo with the blond hair. Especially not in front of his girlfriend.

Spike licked his lips and cocked his head to the side. “Like what you see, eh? Wanna take a photo?”

“Get bent.” It was said with conviction and just a slight wobble.

“Yeah, you wish, luv. I’m more than happy to get bent. But not with the likes of you.” Spike caught a scent in the air. Xander. “Now, why don’t you take your little tart and piss off, yeah?”

The girl gasped and stood. “Come on, Mitch. I’m not staying here.” She was furious and her handbag was rather large, like a big, red lethal weapon. She pointed it at Spike. “You’re a very bad, rude man. This place is really going to hell.”

Spike grinned and went back to his coffee. “I know.”

“Whoa, hey!” Xander put his hands in the air as he was bumped aside by Cordelia Chase, dragging an boyfriend behind her.

“Xander,” Cordelia greeted. “You’re a weird loser, right? Well, go sit with that guy. I’m sure you’ll get on great. You could form a club!”

“Okaaaaay.” Xander watched her leave and turned towards Spike. “What did you do?”

Spike blinked and touched his hand to his chest. “Who, me?” he asked, looking around at the other patrons.

“Don’t give me the innocent act. I invented that. What did you do to upset Cordelia Chase and therefore make my school life that little bit more unbearable?”

Spike looked like he was thinking hard about what he possibly could have done to commit such an atrocity. “Might have called her a tart.”

Xander sighed heavily and dropped into the chair opposite Spike. “Oh, great. Well, thanks for that.”

“She’ll get over it,” Spike offered.

“Yeah, after a week of her bitching about it. That’s gonna be fun.”

“Sorry, luv. Want me to bite her? I could make it hurt.”

Xander considered this for a moment. It was tempting, very tempting. “No,” he said finally, and not all that firmly. “That would only kick off the Cordettes.”

“Cordettes?” Spike asked. “Do I want to know?”

Xander shook his head. “I really don’t think so.”

“Right.” Spike pushed the mug of hot chocolate in Xander’s direction. “Wasn’t sure what you’d like, but you look like a chocolatey sort of bloke.”

“Oh, yeah. Chocolate and me go together like Laurel and Hardy or cheese and crackers or…something else that goes together really well.”

“Keith Harris and Orville,” Spike said.

“Who are they?”

“Orville was this big, green baby bird in a nappy. Keith Harris used to put his hand up Orville’s arse. It was funny for the first five minutes. Cuddles was a laugh, though, annoying little bugger. He was a monkey.”

“Did the guy put his hand up the monkey’s butt, too?”

“Yep.”

“Huh. I wonder if I have an Uncle Keith.”

“Bestiality run in your family, does it, pet?” Spike asked, looking not in the slightest bit bothered if it did.

“Probably,” Xander answered. “My Uncle Gordon is kind of a freak. He keeps all these lizards and only eats ice-cream. Cool, huh?”

“Prefer snakes,” Spike said, sipping his coffee with a slurp. “Had a snake once.”

“Really?”

Spike stretched out his arms. “Yep. Big one. Boa Constrictor. Dru named her Vienna. Then she ate her. Loved that snake, I did.”

Xander nodded. “Snakes are cool. I prefer cats, though. We’ve got one at home. She’s older than I am. Who’s Dru?”

Ah, here we go, Spike thought. “Dru is…my Sire. And she’s the reason I’m in Sunnydale.”

Xander had a sudden sinking feeling. “Sire? What’s that?”

Spike smiled. “Don’t they teach Vampires for Beginners in California?”

Xander shook his head. “Don’t even go there.”

“Right. Sire means that she made me. She drank my blood, then I drank hers then, pop goes the weasel, I was a vampire.”

“Okay. And what does that make you to her?”

“Her Childe,” Spike replied.

“Right. And what does all this have to do with you being in Sunnydale?” The sinking feeling was still there. Was Dru Spike’s girlfriend? He had a girlfriend?

“Thought she might be here. See, she went missing a few months ago. Upped and left in the middle of the day – fuck knows how she managed that.”

“And you’re trying to find her? You think Angel knows? Angel would be her…?”

“Sire. And I thought maybe he would know. Or maybe even The Master. But they don’t.”

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“Angel’s helping. He knows a few people.”

“That’s helpful of him,” Xander pointed out. “And why the helpfulness? This is Mr I’ve Got My Head in the Sand we’re talking about.”

Spike leaned back in his chair. “He wants rid. Sooner I find Dru, the sooner I get the fuck away from him.”

“And The Master?” Xander asked.

“What about him? He’s a useless sack of shite. But I got plans for him.” Spike’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Evil plans?”

“Definitely. He’s an arsehole, luv. Gonna stitch him up, the fucker.”

Xander bobbed his head and smiled just slightly. “I can see only the good in that. In a really evil way. Of course.”

“Of course,” Spike parroted.

“So, uh, this Dru…” Now, how could Xander ask this without sounding like a pathetic teenager? “I know she’s your…Sire?”

Spike nodded.

“But…she’s…your girlfriend?”

A mischievous grin spread all the way across Spike’s face. “Jealous?”

“No! No! No! Why would I be jealous?” Xander denied, a little too vehemently.

Spike slipped a hand under the table and brushed his fingers over Xander’s leg. “I dunno, luv. Maybe because you want me?”

“I – uh – no. Um, could you not do that?”

“What?” Spike asked. “This?”

Xander flinched and pulled away as Spike’s hand stroked him again. “Yeah, that. Could you not?”

“Why? Not keen on the public place? I can take you somewhere a bit more private. In fact, I reckon that would be a great idea.”

“Uh…” Fuck, yes, he wanted Spike to touch him. He wanted Spike to kiss him and touch him all over.

“I know you want it, luv. I know you want me. I can smell it.”

Xander screwed up his nose. “Really? That’s kinda…intrusive.”

“Doesn’t change that you want me, pet,” Spike pointed out, reaching down for another feel.

“I don’t… I’m not… Just stop it!” Xander hissed. “Someone might see.”

Spike pulled his hand out from under the table and put it in clear view. He was pushing, and he knew it. It was just that…

“Look, I gotta go. This was a really bad idea. I don’t even know why I came here.” Xander stood suddenly, only realising as he did so that Spike would be able to see his arousal through his way-too-tight-for-Xander-Harris jeans. Not that it really mattered, seeing as Spike had super-powered nostrils.

Spike’s expression fell. “Hey, no. Don’t go, luv. I promise to keep my hands to myself. Sorry, I…”

“No, I really should go. This…this just isn’t right.” Xander bolted out the door, only stopping when the Espresso Pump was a dot in the distance. “God, what am I doing?”

Spike stepped out of the shadows. “Taking a chance?”

“GAH!!” Xander clutched at his heart and stumbled backwards. “Spike! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, pet. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Are you sure? I’m starting to think all vampires really are stalkers. Or did you just inherit that from Angel?”

“Oi! I’m nothing like Angel!”

“Actually, I wonder if he pushes Buffy around like you do me. It’s kinda insulting, you know?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, I really know how to pick ‘em. Look, I’m sorry, alright? I know I come on a little strong; it’s just the way I am. I can’t help it. And, well, you seem to bring it out in me. Can’t resist you, luv.”

“You are so full of crap.”

“It’s true! I think you’re bloody hot stuff. And you’ve got to remember, I’m a vampire. I’m used to taking what I want.” Spike sidled a little closer. “And I want you.”

As dangerous as he knew it was, Xander closed his eyes just briefly as Spike’s hand gently brushed his cheek. “Sorry.”

“What you sorry for?” Spike asked in a whisper.

“It’s just that this is a big thing. For me. You know? I don’t… I haven’t… You know?”

Spike smiled. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go slow. Promise.”

“What about Dru?”

“I love Dru, and I miss her like crazy.”

Xander dropped his gaze and stared down at his shoes. “Oh. Okay, sure…”

“But I still want you. That alright?”

“It’s weird, don’t you think? Wouldn’t Dru mind? I mean, won’t she be mad when she finds out? If she finds out? I so don’t need a crazy vamp-lady gunning for me.”

Spike considered this for a moment. “Nah. It’s not unknown for us to...see other people. Sometimes we even share. Reckon she’d like you.”

Xander swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Definitely. Young, dark, handsome – she’d really like you. And I know you’d like her. Bloody beautiful, she is.” Spike moved closer, pleased when Xander didn’t move away. “I can just see you two together. Her touching you. You touching her. And I’d be there, watching, waiting for my turn. Would you like that, luv?” He skimmed his hands over Xander’s arms, dying to grab him, hold him and grind his aching erection against him.

“Sounds…erm…yeah. But…” Xander closed his eyes again as Spike’s lips touched his for the first time. A small moan escaped him and as he brought his hands up to hold Spike against him he felt himself being held tightly back. “Wow. That was – was -,” Xander stuttered as Spike released his mouth.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. Now, how about we go see a movie?”

Xander nodded and smiled. “Sure. I think The Sun Cinema is showing Volcano,” he suggested, trying to keep the shake from his voice.

“I think you might be right. Let’s go see that, then. I do love a good disaster film.”

“Really? I just love Tommy Lee Jones.”

Spike laughed. “Like ‘em a bit older, eh? Well, that suits me just fine.”

Xander shook his head and started in the general direction of the movie house. “Shut up. Let’s just go watch the movie before I change my mind.”

Spike saluted and followed along. “You’re the boss.”

TBC…