Forcing Buffy

Title: Forcing Buffy
Author: Dea Brynhild Ensomhet
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: Umm, NC-17? Mentions of attempted rape and naughty naked touching... not to mention the sex ^_~
Archival: Just ask and ye shall recieve.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss and Co. I own nothing except the forty-three cents in my pocket and the Angel Season Two on DVD on my shelf (Thanks Mel-chan!). Lyrics by Nickel Creek's "Beauty and the Mess". ~~ are song lyrics, // are Buffy quotes.
Author's Notes: Oh my god! I wrote sex! run for your lives! ^_^ Takes place right after Spike tries to rape Buffy - spoilers for "The Pack" and "Seeing Red". Xander and Spike aren't as different as they think they are.
Last edited: 3/03/04


~I pull myself under and down I go again
it's just a little bit hard letting them in
looking at the world through elusive eyes
I hide in the spotlight it's a great disguise~

Son of a bitch.

Xander's feet pounded against the sidewalk, the anger and nausea burning in his chest and throat. Images of Buffy huddled on the tile, covered in her bathrobe and bruises, flashed in front of his eyes. How dare that British Bastard hurt his friends. He'd almost forgotten how much damage Spike could inflict, even with the chip.

//Can't any one of your damn little Scooby club at least try to remember that I hate you all? Just because I can't do the damage myself doesn't stop me from aiming a loose cannon your way.//

Vampires are evil. Vampires are untrustworthy. Bad things happen when you forget the basics. His stomach clenched as his thoughts drifted back to the bathroom, and the smell that had assulted him. Fear. The bathroom had been soaked in the stench of fear, and no matter how far he ran he couldn't get away from the cackling in the back of his mind, or the arousal stirring. He ducked into an ally and leaned back against the brick wall, clutching his waist as he hauled oxygen into his throbbing lungs. He knew Willow would take care of Buffy, just as he knew there'd be no way he could keep in control if he'd stayed.

It had been years since that afternoon, but the memories were still as sharp and clear as ever. The hyena taunted him with them. Before long nights spent in Anya's arms, before fumbling gropes and passionate kisses in closets, when he was alone as he could be with only his thoughts for comfort, he would indulge himself in the guilty pleasure. Remember the feel of her pinning him, the weight of her body exciting him more than he'd thought possible.

//Been waitin' for you to jump my bones//

He'd rolled, catching her off balance and he switched their positions, him on top, pressing her into the cool hard floor. She struggled, and he'd loved every moment, the thrashing of her body only serving to draw them closer, her warmth and soft curves enthrawlling him. The more she struggled, the more her chances of escape decreased, and the more lovely scents of fear and despair she gave off. He'd paused for a moment to savor the smell, and she'd bucked, knocking loose his grasp and scrambling to her feet.

//Get off of me//

He'd regained the dominate position quickly and crushed her into the vending machine, his fingers digging deep into her upper arms. He'd ridden the thrill of holding the Slayer captive like a drug high. She wore long sleeves the next few days, and he didn't mention it. Claiming amnesia was a wonderful alibi; made him guiltless in the eyes of Buffy and Willow, and aside from a few glances from Giles and the slight slipup or two, they never mentioned his possession again. Now he doubts any of them remember or care about those few days anymore. Except him, who still battles the identities in his head. Sometimes he wonders if Willow remembers dying that Halloween, or if the 18th century girl in Buffy's head is repulsed by her duties as the Slayer, but he's never asked, because asking would lead to talking and he doesn't want to share. Doesn't want to try and explain what it was like to be powerful, to want, take, have. To silence and scare away the lesser humans with a growl, to walk up behind the Slayer without detection. That supreme confidence and strength, being the Predator instead of the Zeppo, was a kicker to lose. Even with the pig-eating and general "Being a Jerk" side effects. Maybe that was why he hated Spike so much, because he could relate so easily with him; he knew from personal experience what it was like to have that power taken away, to return to being prey. Except Spike hadn't given up, he still wreaked havoc despite the chip. Xander chuckled low in his throat as he was struck by an idea that appealed, the hyena spoiling for a fight after being beated to a pulp by Super Strength Warren, and the man itching for revenge for his friends' hurt.

//You like your men dangerous//

He began walking again, headed to Spike's crypt. What the fuck was it about the Fangless Wonder that made his friends want to sleep with him? If he stopped to think about it logically, he supposed he could accept the fellowship of Demons that Anya had felt, the shameful pleasure of secretly having relations with your enemy that drew Buffy. He may not be able to comprehend the former, but he fully understood the latter - he had dated Cordelia. But Willow too had once confessed that she found Spike's confidence and accent kinda sexy. (she'd been confessing to Buffy, and Xander couldn't help it if he'd been within hearing range. Buffy had pointed out Giles' accent which had lead to a blush on Will's face and forbiddon images in Xan's mind that he thought he'd managed to repress by now). Even the hyena in his head admired Spike's fighting abilities and the lure of darkenss. Xander understood all of this, and so it hurt that Buffy didn't trust him enough to tell him about Spike, and it hurt that even finding out through accident, he hadn't been able to prevent whatever happened in the bathroom. Not that he doubted for a moment Buffy wouldn't have been able to defend herself - if there was one thing he'd learned over the years, it was that no one could force Buffy into anything. Still, he should have known what was going to happen when Buffy said no to Spike...

//Do you know how long... I've waited... until you'd stop pretending that we aren't attracted...//
//Why do you keep lying to yourself?//

After all, he knew what it was like to want her, to want that power over her. As he approached the crypt, he saw Clem exiting with a bucket of chicken. "Yo, Xander!" the demon grinned, waving. "Want some hot wings?"

"Hey Clem." Xander forced a smile. "No thanks, I'm fine. Spike inside?"

"Yeah." Clem replied. "He's in a mood though. I think the Slayer hurt his feelings." You don't know the half of it, Xander thought. "Hey, maybe you can talk to him, cheer him up."

Xander shrugged, "I'll see what I can do." He entered the crypt quietly, gaze focused on the figure hunched over the stone coffin, lit candles illuminating enough to see.

"Spike, we have to talk." Xander felt a twinge of deja vu, remembering the similar words Buffy had said that afternoon so long ago.

~behind the melody the words don't mean a thing
but every tone I play would give whatever I've not said away~

Bloody Hell. Did the whelp have to unwittingly mimic the exact same thing he said to Buffy in the bathroom earlier? "I really don't." he growled, before sipping from a mug of warm blood. This was the last thing he needed, the white knight coming to avenge his lady and shove into his face just how worthless he really is. The chip wouldn't let him be a monster, and he couldn't be a man, so what was he? Silently he pleaded, Just go away and leave me be.

"Well, this isn't just about you - as much you'd like it to be." Xander shot back, stepping towards him. "Other people are involved."

//I'm gonna make you feel it//

Spike laughed bitterly at the deja vu. "What's your plan? You dust me and present my ashes to her as a prezzie?" He'd almost welcome it...

//anything to make this feeling stop. You should have let him kill me// end to the pathetic nothingness his life had become. "After all, I shagged two of your three chits - revenge for two birds with one stake." He drained the mug and threw it against the wall, ceramic shards scattering across the floor. Xander's pulse didn't jump, but he did pause a few feet away.

"It's not that easy, and even if it was, I'm the last person to condem you for this. You're not the only one who's wanted her, who's tried to force her."

//I know you feel like I do. You don't have to hide it anymore//

Spike pressed a hand against his forehead, trying to relieve the buzzing of the chip as he remembered the bathroom. What the hell was the boy talking about? "You saying you tried?" He expected an immediate denial, not the silence that followed. He turned slowly to face Xander who, for his credit, didn't break eye contact. "When?" he had to ask.

"Five years ago. Infected with some hyena thing, like a demonic possession. Bullied some kids, ate a pig, started looking for a mate." Xander chuckled as he closed the space between them, the shrill edge of his laugh sending a shiver up Spike's spine. "I loved it when she was scared, it was the best thing I'd ever sensed. The more I scared her..."

"...the better she smelled." Spike finished, stunned. Xander's dark eyes glinted dangerously, his body moving with a hitherto unseen grace. He didn't know how he'd missed this side of the boy, the predator lurking beneath his skin, hidden by the moronic fašade. There was no mistake now though, the boy was pouring off phermones like a bitch in heat. He stared as Xander stopped, an inch of space between them, and sniffed the air.

"I can smell her on you." Xander murmured, "You smell good." The mouthwatering musky smell intensified.

//guess who just got mean//


Xander trembled as the hyena thrashed in his skull, demanding to be released and to claim the figure before them. Five long years of keeping this secret, of suppressing the urges, and he was so very tired of fighting it, afraid that it would hurt one of his friends if he lost control.

But none of his friends were here now.

//Let yourself feel it//

It surged to the surface, taking control with a roar of victory. Xander's hips pressed against Spike's, pinning him to the stone coffin, while he held Spike's wrists behind him. Xander's face pressed into the crook of Spike's neck, roughly kissing and nibbling the base of his throat.

//We both know what you really want. You want danger, don't you?//

Spike threw his head back and howled, writhing as he tried to pull from Xander's grasp to reverse their positions, but to no avail. Xander held on tightly, grinding his hardening erection into Spike's matching hard-on, running his tongue up the side of his neck. Spike groaned as he thrust back...


//Great love is wild and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes//

...the heat radiating from Xander scorched his body and set his nerves haywire. Xander's head lowered as he pressed a trail of kisses down a pale chest. Spike wrenched one hand free and slid it behind Xander's neck, pulling him back up for a searing kiss. Their tongues delved into each other's mouths, fueling the fire. Xander could taste the pig's blood in Spike's mouth and it sent a shock of arousal straight to his groin. Xander released Spike's other hand, which buried itself in Xander's shirt for leverage. Spike trailed kisses down Xander's neck, sucking hard enough to bruise but not to cause pain. Xander's hands swept down Spike's back and under the waistband of his jeans, to squeeze his ass. Spike shuddered and must have slipped into game face, because he could feel the fangs scratching his neck. Brief pinprick of pain and Spike whined, the chip obviously interfering.

Xander pulled back, breathing hard with a feral grin. "You wanna hurt me?" The smoldering look in Spike's eyes was more than enough of an answer. Xander leaned back in and crushed their mouths together, exploring the difference of kissing in game face. Xander slashed his tongue against a sharp fang, and Spike moaned as warm fresh human blood coated his mouth. Spike sucked on Xander's tongue, coaxing as much blood from it as possible before the small wound closed up. Xander's fingers curled around the hem of Spike's T-shirt and tugged. Spike reluctantly broke away in order to pull the fabric over his head, before diving back into the kiss. Xander's palms ghosted over Spike's chest, fingertips twisting his nipples before drifting down to unfasten his belt and jeans. Spike returned the favor, and soon they were both naked and wriggling against each other...

//stops kidding herself... that I could settle with anyone but you//

//you love me//

~blue waters blue eyes color me
if any could come this close I'd let them see
get it out again and play 'em one more song
it's all they really want and who's to say that's wrong~

~*~ unfinished, current draft as of 2/10/04


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