Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: Soft R/M
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike Moody Weekend: Lazy
Word Count: 928
Date Written: 28 January 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Spike nuzzles Buffy’s neck, keeping his fangs in check as he kisses her tender flesh. He lifts his face and whispers in her ear, “I could stay right here forever.” He licks her earlobe and feels her shiver, in a delightful way, against him.
It’s been a calm night. He woke earlier than usual this afternoon to a darkness having settled across the city, but it wasn’t a Supernatural darkness. It was just a natural rain shower. The rain’s been pelting the roof for hours, wordlessly persuading them to stay in bed and cuddle. They’ve made love twice, but right now, holding her in his arms, feeling her heart beat against his naked chest, lazily tasting her skin every now and then, is all he needs.
He loves just holding her like this, something he’s never enjoyed with any other lover before. With Angelus, and even Angel later, their mating was always violent. When he was with Drusilla, he’d often been blinded by his desire to make himself be the biggest, baddest thing around to be able to enjoy such tender moments with the woman he’d thought he’d loved. His fling with Harmony had been all about getting over Dru and Buffy, and he’d often worked out his frustrations on the poor fledgling. He’s never known a love like this, where he is so content to be tender, easy, and slow, but then, he’s never loved anyone like Buffy before.
There’s never been anyone like Buffy before, he thinks. There’s never been another Slayer before like her, never one who put her friends and family first and always let her heart lead her despite the power she wielded. He’s never known a woman who was as good as she is, heart and soul, and yet chose to love a monster. He’s never had a lover who hasn’t always seen something lacking in him. Angel never thought he was good enough for him. Drusilla never thought he was as good as her sire, and Harm knew he was never good to her.
He doesn’t deserve Buffy, Spike thinks, but then his thoughts are interrupted as Buffy grasps his neck with a gentle hand and brings him down against her lips. “Stop that,” she commands.
He looks at her in surprise. “Stop what, luv?” he asks, their mouths again a mere breath apart.
“Brooding,” she says looking at him as though he’s purposefully being dense. “I know that look. I know that feel. Stop brooding, or I’m getting out of this bed and going on patrol.”
The rain’s stopped, he suddenly realizes, and with the weather lifting, she’s bound to leave him at any time and do exactly as she threatens. He know she patrols every night no matter how bad she feels or how much she’d rather be doing something else. He’s lucky she hasn’t already left him to go patrolling, but then he’s lucky regardless that she hasn’t left him, incredibly lucky that she actually chooses to love him, especially despite all his faults.
Buffy’s green eyes flash. “You’re doing it again,” she says as though it’s a warning. She presses a finger to his nose. “Stop that,” she commands again.
He grins and kisses her finger. “Is that an order, Slayer?”
“You bet it is,” she returns hotly. “I’m not lying here waiting for you to make love to me again when you’re brooding!” But then she smiles at him again. Spike feels the familiar catch of air he doesn’t need in his throat.
She lowers her finger, leans up, and kisses him. He needs no further persuasion. The past doesn’t matter after all, he reminds himself. All that matters is that she wants him, she loves him. He doesn’t want to just spend any lazy Sunday with her. He wants to spend all eternity with her, or at least however long she has. His lips curve up into a smile as he returns her kiss.
He runs a hand through her long, blonde hair and then cups her head, resting it against his palm as he moves over her again. Slow and leisurely, he loves her, proving his love to her with every touch and kiss, and with equal time and passion, Buffy reminds him again that she chooses to be here, chooses to love him, chooses him out of all the endless guys she could have had, and that she plans on spending as much time as she can, however much time she has, with him.
As her legs wrap around him and he feels her muscles contract beneath him, Spike hears the rain start back. He grins. Maybe he can keep her from patrol tonight after all. She rolls him onto his back, but she doesn’t try to leave him. She just keeps making love to him, reminding him that he is hers and she willingly, freely, and gladly gives herself to him. Maybe there was something lacking once between them or in him, but whatever it is, or was, it doesn’t matter any more. He’s whole now. As long as he has, he’s whole, and he’s happy and loved, and nothing else matters.
She squeals in delight as he suddenly rolls her back across their bed. Her arms go around his neck, and she holds to him. He moves his mouth from her neck to her breasts, and the elated sounds she makes carry out into the night, drowning out the rain, and filling Spike’s ears, as she does the rest of him, with love and joy that he hopes will last forever.