“Blah.” The porcelain white of the sketchbook paper mocked the young artist as she struggled to brainstorm for an impressive moment of her life. Impressive. It was a word whose definition was so often used in manners unworthy to its root that the true meaning of it was almost elusive. To make an impression. To be distinguished from all others. To mark.
For all of her life, Buffy had felt that she was experiencing anticlimaxes. Her life in high school prior to her parents’ divorce had been unremarkable in the most literal sense—superficial time, activities, and priorities that she felt haunted her existence to this very day. In her last conversation with her mother, she hadn’t told her how much she’d meant to her, how devastating the idea of living without her was, how she longed to be as strong as her—she’d feigned being disturbed about the idea of her mother on a date and never told her she was proud that she’d moved on. Even college life, with all its appeal, had been nothing like her expectations—she worked, she studied, and tried to find time to keep some sort of social life, if not for appearances than for a semblance of sanity and happiness that she hadn’t felt in so long.
The truth was… the only genuinely remarkable moments in her life, those that she could relive in astonishing clarity the multitude of emotions she felt, were those with Spike. But even as she admitted the truth, facing it didn’t seem any easier—and to acknowledge her own response to him after such a short time of knowing him only added to the insecurity and fear that he would not return her irrational affections.
“Evil, conveniently-timed homework assignments,” Buffy mumbled, reaching back to turn on the radio on her bedside table. Light from the afternoon sun filtered through the slits of the blinds and rested on her shoulders, bared by the small white tank top she wore. Despite the fact that it was still technically winter, California had already begun to warm up, the sky not entirely blue but the day warm and comfortable.
Turning back to the paper only made the blonde even more frustrated than she had been prior to her soul searching. With a huff, she flung herself back on the pillows of her bed, just as a knock sounded firmly on the door. “Come in!” she called out absentmindedly, not sitting up as the door opened and closed again. “What’s up?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.” Of all the people Buffy had expected, the owner of that particular voice was the last. Her eyes widened and she slowly sat up, keeping her gaze trained at her folded hands and not at the black-clad Brit shuffling his feet in her dorm room.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was not harsh as he expected, but soft, gentle, vulnerable in its dulcet tones.
“I had to talk to you,” he answered honestly, wishing that she would look at him so he could gauge her reaction to his words. The golden sunlight filtering through the blinds caused a heavenly glow to form around her, and suddenly all thoughts of quiet talking flew out of his mind. “I needed to see you,” he said softly, taking a few steps closer to her.
“You’ve seen me,” Buffy replied evenly, still gazing downwards. “Now leave.”
“No.” He was now standing before her as she sat upon the bed, his jean-clad hips less than a foot away. “I still haven’t seen all I needed to see.”
“What more do you want?” Her voice was harsh now, and all of the fears that she felt were seeping into her inflection. This wasn’t what she wanted, she couldn’t stand to have him here now, not while she was so weak, and—
“Look at me, Buffy.”
The taste of her name on his lips in the soft command was sweet, and Spike could barely restrain himself from waiting for her to respond. She hesitated, her blonde hair falling before her face and shielding it from his view before she slowly raised her head, the golden locks parting to reveal her wide, stricken gaze, her eyes begging for him to…
You danced with me in the moonlight
And I found my theme
Like roses bloom you inspire me
“What are you doing?” He was settling himself down on the mattress next to her, his right hand resting against the mattress directly behind her back as she stared straight ahead, towards Willow’s side of the room.
“I am,” he began, leaning towards her until his lips ghosted against the skin of her neck, and then pressed against her ear, “making you see.”
“See what?” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper as desire began to flood her system.
She felt him smile against her skin, before pressing his lips against her cheek and reaching with his left hand to guide her face towards his. As their foreheads rested against one another, both sets of eyes closed and the only thing she could hear was his voice over the song of the radio.
His lips began to move towards her, and she could feel his soft breath on her skin as he murmured, “How to let go.” And he kissed her.
And the break of day fell upon me
And the light outshined
And you broke the spell that had kept me from loving you
I came to you for answers
I left confused
In a moment, the world was hurled into that sharp sense of clarity that marked each of her moments with Spike. As she opened her mouth into the kiss, his tongue swept into her mouth to brush against hers, eliciting a moan from the blonde. She began to feel her body falling backwards against the pillows of her bed, Spike’s body on top of hers a comforting presence even while she felt as if she was still falling. How could he make everything so right and wrong, so sane and extreme, so clear and confusing at the same time? With one touch, one caress, he stopped all questions in her mind only to pave the way for more.
We played charades and the stars bowed down
I saw your face
I lose myself on a Saturday
It had been so long so I questioned
I questioned everything
Then it’s no surprise
The time was right and you saw it in my eyes
With a sigh, Buffy felt his hands begin to slide across the bare skin of her arms and down to the hem of her shirt, dragging the material upwards when she lifted herself up immediately. Her own hands traveled across the expanse of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense beneath his shirt as one strong hand slipped under the fabric of her top and cupped a pert breast. Brushing a thumb over one pebbled nipple, Spike let out a moan against her lips and sat up quickly, pulling off his black tee before helping Buffy with her own shirt.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, covering her body with his own again and beginning to press open-mouthed kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, nipping at her jugular before moving down her chest and stomach. “When I’m with you,” his tongue dipped into her belly button, “I feel like a different man than I am.” His fingers hooked into the fabric of her shorts. “A better man than I’ve ever been.”
I came to you for answers
I left confused
Cause you moved me and you promised you wouldn't let go
Now I need you and I want you to know
“What?” The question was nearly moaned as Spike began to drag her shorts down, past her hips and her legs until they landed somewhere near their shirts. “I don’t, mhmmm, understand.”
“What’s so difficult to understand, love?” Spike asked devilishly, his voice gaining a playful quality as he pressed kisses against her inner thighs, the scent of her arousal drifting through the silk of her panties and making conversation more difficult than it normally would have been. “All my life I’ve been what other people want me to be,” he started, sliding his hands up her outer thighs and slipping his fingers under the thin straps of her thong, “but when I’m with you, I feel like who I am—and that feels right.”
“You don’t have to change,” Buffy gasped, struggling to respond even as the fabric of her panties was pulled from her center, exposing her erotically. “I like how you’ve been with me.”
I am spinning out of control to be with you
And I know that who you are defines me
“You’ve only known me after,” Spike growled, his fingers parting her wet folds and slipping within her tight channel. “I started changing the moment I saw you, love, before I even knew your name.”
“Oh, god!” As soon as he ended his sentence, he wrapped his lips around her clit and rubbing it with his tongue, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through her body. “Oh, Spike!” His fingers were thrusting in and out of her, and she could feel her orgasm building already. A second later, as his tongue replaced his fingers and his thumb began to rub against her swollen bud, she came, her body tensing and golden thighs tightening around Spike’s head as he continued to lick her delicately. “Oh my god.”
“You taste divine, did I tell you before, love?” The peroxide blond gasped, his erection making itself painfully present after being neglected for so long. With a well-disguised wince, Spike crawled up towards the headboard and settled himself next to the boneless, naked girl on the bed, resting his head on a hand and gazing down at her from his relaxed position.
“You’re really good at that, did I tell you before?” Buffy said by means of reply, the smile on her flushed face warming his heart.
I came to you for answers
I left confused
Cause you moved me and you promised you wouldn't let go
Now I need you and I want you to know
Spike couldn’t think of a response, an unintentionally giddy smile only appearing on his face to meet hers. He reached out a hand and brushed a lock of her hair away from her face, his tender act interrupted as Buffy moved up and swung her legs over his hips, mirroring their position from earlier that morning as she leaned down to meet him in a passionate kiss. His hands began to push at her breasts and she moaned against his lips, sitting up again to focus on unbuttoning the fly of his jeans.
“Whoa,” Spike said, reaching down to still her movements. “Are you sure about this, love? If you’re going to get skittish again, I—”
“I’m sure,” she interrupted, dragging the now-unfastened pants down his hips and causing his erection to bob free from its confines. She pulled his shoes off and then the jeans, tossing them on the floor next to her bed as she crawled back up his body and dragged the length of her own form across his. As she grasped his cock and settled her entrance over the tip, heir hot skin tingled at the sensitized contact and Spike waited with bated breath for her to sink onto his flesh.
Her hazel eyes locked onto his own blue gaze as she began to slide onto his cock, inch by inch entering her and stretching her inner walls deliciously. The tight grip he held on her hips revealed his hands to be shaking with repressed desire, but when Buffy squeezed her muscles around his length, he lost control. With his help, she raised herself over his hips and sank onto his cock once more, letting out a moan as he filled her completely.
“You feel so good,” he murmured breathlessly, his left hand moving between their bodies to cup her sex even as she slid up his length, her rhythm speeding up at his words. “So hot inside, so tight,” he gasped, a surprised laugh escaping his lips when she quirked an eyebrow and squeezed him again. “My beautiful, naughty girl.”
His thumb rubbed her clit at those words, and Buffy let out a surprised moan before commanding, “Say that again!”
“Say what?” Spike asked, thrusting his hips upward to meet each bounce of the girl on top of him. “How hot you are as you ride me? You love every minute of this, every word I say—”
“You know what I want to hear,” Buffy gasped, placing her hands on either side of his head as she leaned forward, her clit grinding against him and his cock hitting her at a delectable angle, his hands grasping her ass as she moved faster and faster, each getting closer to their peak. “Tell me now!”
“You’re my girl,” Spike murmured, before her lips crashed against his and her walls pulsated around his length, triggering his own climax. Her hips gradually slowed in their movement, his cock remaining inside of her as they rolled onto their sides and faced one another, her arms wrapped around his neck tenderly and his hands stroking the skin of her lower back.
I'm stepping out today
Pushed all the demons away
I'm stepping out today
Pushed all the demons away
“That was…”
“Amazing,” Buffy filled in when Spike trailed off, smiling at the goofy look on his face before kissing his lips tenderly. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” The words had tumbled from her lips without precedence, and Spike was completely unprepared for them. “For what, kitten?”
“For leaving this morning,” she said apologetically, averting her gaze for the first time since their encounter began. “I just… Well, let’s just say that—”
“No,” Spike broke in, moving his hand upwards to cup her cheek and bring her gaze back onto him. “We can’t ‘just say’ some of these things, Buffy,” he said gently, running his fingers through her hair. “I want to know everything about you, and assumptions just won’t do.”
His request surprised her, and it took a moment for her to form a response. “Are you sure?” She was tentative about the thought of exposing all of herself to Spike, not from her perspective, but from the imagined point of view of the man before her. “I should tell you I’ve got a lot of baggage.”
“I’ve got baggage too,” he answered without a thought, kissing the tip of her nose affectionately. “And I want to know it—so I can know you. All of you.”