Scrape….scrape….click….snap….scrape….scrape….
“Sodding hell!”
The arid aroma of dead blood danced upon the air. Spike breathed in deeply and grimaced. The smell of his own blood failed to turn him on like the sweet stench of human blood. But even that had lost its appeal. With the loss of his desire to kill, and the addition of his soul, the tempting scent of blood just wasn’t the same.
“Some bloody ruthless vampire you are.”
Scrape…scrape….click…snap.
The flame danced over the shiny metal of the blade, and was cut off abruptly as he flicked the Zippo closed. He blew out a puff of smoke, the cigarette still dangling from his lips.
The cuff of his black t-shirt was rolled up, and he dragged the edge of the blade across the pale flesh of his upper arm. With one final flick of his wrist he completed the design upon his skin and snapped the switchblade shut.
“That’s kinda pointless isn’t it? Vampires can’t have tattoos, they heal too fast.”
His blue eyes flicked upwards. “Not true.”
Picking up a small vial labeled only with a pure white cross he let droplets from the bottle slide across his oozing flesh with a hiss. The Holy Water caused his skin to sizzle and small puffs of smoke began to rise.
“And what could possibly possess you to tattoo yourself for all eternity Spike?”
“Come see for yourself.”
She stepped closer, the curtain of her honey blonde hair tickling his forearm as she bent forward. Her hazel eyes rested on the still smoking brand on his bicep.
“Oh geez Spike, that doesn’t scream stalker at all.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a small grin. “Well if you don’t like your Christmas present I guess I’ll just have too…” He snatched up the vial of Holy Water again and held it threateningly over his tattoo, prepared to dump the contents over his scarred flesh.
“NO!” She grabbed his wrist and the bottle dropped to the floor shattering.
His arm snaked around her waist and dragged her body hard up against his.
“Knew you’d like it luv,” he growled in her ear. His tongue flicked out tracing a moist path down the soft skin of her neck.
“You are such a pig Spike.”
“Oink, oink Slayer,” he rumbled against the hollow of her throat.
“Well if you are going to be like that...” she shoved him backwards. “…you don’t get your present.”
The eyebrow shot up, as expected and she couldn’t contain a laugh.
“Present? Don’t be cheeky with me Slayer.”
The pink tip of her tongue massaged her parted lips, and she lowered her eyelids at him seductively.
“Blood for blood.”
His mouth dropped open, and a shiver of desire raced through him. She couldn’t be saying what he thought she was saying?
“Didn’ quite catch that pet.”
She brushed the hair away from her face in one long sweep, leaving the right side of her neck bare. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”
“M’ thinking so yeah.”
“Well, you said it once; it’s always about the blood. The thing is, we’ve been through so much, death, hate, abuse…” her voice trailed off, and the she started again shaking her head. “But never blood Spike. Angel, and Dracula both took from me, what I really didn’t want to give, and yet here you are, still with me, and you have never hinted or asked.”
“Well that’s not entirely true luv.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your half-hearted attempts to “kill me” don’t count.”
“So glad.” Sarcasm dripped from the words.
“Knock it off.” She frowned at him. “Anyway, you gave me that,” she pointed to the reddening patch of skin on his arm. “And I want to give you this.” She brought his hand up and placed his cool fingers on the warm skin of her neck.
His eyes screamed with uncertainty, and when he opened his mouth to speak again she quieted him.
“Please Spike, for me.”
He slid his arm around her waist again and pulled her forward, while moving backward. She toppled onto his lap as he slid smoothly into a chair. Brushing the silken strands off her neck again.
She hid in the darkness behind closed eyes, as she felt his cool tongue trace circles upon the sensitive skin. She had to fight her Slayer instincts to run, and her body’s natural reaction to stiffen.
“Relax…” he breathed into her neck. “I can’t explain it luv, but just trust me, this won’t be bad, I promise.”
She kept her eyes squeezed shut, but nodded in compliance.
The bite didn’t come. He teased her skin with his lips, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She could almost image an ice cube melting across her warm skin, and she shivered.
His hand slipped down and nudged her knees apart, his fingers dancing up in her inner thigh. He rubbed her warm center through the thin fabric, and she shuddered.
“Love you…” he murmured into her neck, and she felt the tension drain away.
The bite wasn’t like anything she had experienced before, it was almost as if she floated up out of her body and was watching Spike, sink his fangs into her neck.
There was no pain, and ecstasy. The pressure on her neck increased, and she could feel not only his fangs but his lips and tongue devouring any blood that seeped out. His hand fumbling roughly between her legs squeezing and rubbing her wet pussy. She was in heaven.
The Slayer inside fought with her, screaming as he pulled the blood slowly from her body. But he wasn’t feeding, and he wasn’t violent; he was loving her. Taking slow, small sips and then letting his tongue lap up the stray drop that slid its way down her neck.
She couldn’t tell anymore where she started and where he began; they were one. Unzipping her pants in one fluid motion he slid two fingers inside her wetness, and that was all it took. With a scream she came, and with a roar he pulled away.
He turned his face away, but she dragged it back. He was still in game face, his yellow eyes gleaming. Her blood stained his lips and chin. He looked ashamed.
“I didn’t know…” she whispered wiping some of her blood off his chin, and holding her fingers to his lips. His tongue darted out of its own accord. “Kiss me.”
It was a flurry of tongues, fangs and blood. She tasted her coppery blood in his mouth, and it didn’t disgust her. When they finally broke apart, his monstrous masked had slipped away leaving on pale human skin, and bright blue eyes.
“Buffy…I’m…”his voice was low, and his eyes pleading.
“No apologies Spike, it was beautiful.” Her brilliant smile sent waves of desire through his body and he pulled her close.
“Merry Christmas Slayer.”
She smiled again, and glanced down at his tattooed arm and ran a finger lightly over the lettering.
Buffy
“Merry Christmas Spike.”
A/N: No Spike did not use ink to make his tatoo. I don't know the name for the self-inflicted scars that are another version of tatooing. So I left it out :D
Author's Chapter Notes:
Requirements: Bloodplay, but not to the point of death. Spike/Buffy, and possibly an X-Mas theme. Set post/nfa where in my little fantasy world Joss did not avoid the spike/buffy closure issue.