s/x kiss

So, green_luv posted a random Spike/Xander kiss in her LJ. And it was quite yummy, and quite delicious. And eliade liked the idea, and turned it into a meme by writing her own delicious Spander snippet. So therefore, it is now a meme. Everyone must fill it out. Write a Spander-kiss. Make it steamy and yummy. Because I am horny and want porn it will make the world a better place. Yes.



"I fucked up."

Xander says it in a choked voice. Full of tears, heavy and dark. There's the stale taste of bad beer on the back of his tongue and gray rain on his lips. Still dressed in his rumpled, soaked tuxedo that he'll never be able to return now. Twisting the wedding band he'll never give her back and forth in his fingers.

"I fucked up," he repeats. "But I'm not sure where I fucked up, you know?"

Spike nods his head, gives a tight, bitter grin. Takes a pull from his own beer and winces at the heavy rain. "Yeah," he says. "Know exactly what you mean, mate."

They're marrooned here, in a sense. Caught under the awning of the cheap, awful bar, waiting for the rain to let off so they can go to their respective hells. This was just a chance encounter. Xander didn't come here to see Spike. He came here to see a lot of liquor and then nothing else for a very long time. He doesn't want to dream tonight.

But Spike was there, and he was miserable, and for some strange reason, it was all right to be with him.

Xander shakes his head. Plays with a damp cuff. "Maybe I should've married her," he murmurs. "I should've ... I should've done it. Should've been a man, gone through with it, no matter what. Because it broke ..."

His voice trails off, and Spike slaps him on the shoulder. "Nah," he says. Sways a little. He looks very tired. "Did what you had to do, right? It was ... it was for the best. 'Cause you, you didn't love her."

"No," Xander says softly. "I love her. That's why I fucked it all up. I shouldn't have asked her in the first place. Should've known I wasn't any good for her then. I just figured it out too late."

There's quiet then. Nothing but the sound of water hitting pavement, like a liquid percussion. The air feels dreadfully heavy, and everything feels so soft and hazy, muffled by the beer and the rainstorm, that Xander almost misses it when Spike leans over and kisses him. He does it so gentle, like it's barely there in the first place. Just a little brush of lip-to-lip, and then he pulls away. Just a fraction of an inch, and his face is right there. Big blue eyes under half-mast lashes. Jesus, but he looks exhausted.

Spike lifts his hand, and brushes the backs of his knuckles down Xander's cheek. "Don't take this the wrong way," he murmurs, "but you need this almost as bad as I do."

Before Xander can say anything, Spike's kissing him again. Hand cupped around his jaw, cool fingertips stroking the back of his earlobe and getting tangled in his hair. And it's so tender, so fragile. Like kissing a hummingbird's wings. Xander's eyes fall shut without him even noticing, and he sighs, melts. Lets Spike open the kiss, slip his tongue inside his mouth. Spike tastes like beer and raindrops, and something sad that could be love. He barely even notices when his hand moves up and winds around Spike's wrist.

The rain keeps falling, and they keep kissing, and soon the tears will follow.


Now, everyone must go out and write their own. I command it.