Summary: In some schmoopy AU, Xander gets Spike an anniversary present that'll last forever.
Rated: PG13, for language.
Disclaimer: It's all Joss'.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Green for the beta.
Dedicated to Eunice.
Adrenaline.
He's drunk on it, positively buzzed as it thrums through his system. He's never ever felt better in his entire life and he can't wait to get home and share his excitement with Spike. He now understands adrenaline junkies and their need to do stupid shit like jump out of planes. Hell, he may take up sky diving himself, if this is any clue as to what they feel, because he's absolutely flying; he feels like he could take out an entire nest of vamps all on his own.
He's waiting as patiently as possible at a red light, drumming out a staccato beat on the steering wheel. Hair flops into his face as he bobs his head to the rhythm. He briefly thinks he should get it cut as he brushes it out of his eyes, and then smiles as he remembers Spike likes it like this. It gives him something to hold on to. He punches it when the light turns green, only to immediately slow down. Dying in a fiery crash would ruin this buzz, not to mention piss Spike off. And that is the last thing Xander wants to do.
His grin is plastered to his face as he pulls into his parking space. He takes the stairs to his floor two at a time and is whistling by the time he reaches his apartment door.
"Honey, I'm home," he calls as he throws the door open, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter. He's barely got his coat off when Spike bounds out of the bedroom, launching himself at Xander, pushing him back into the door. He's frighteningly silent as he finishes pulling Xander's coat off. His eyes are dark and stormy as he paws at Xander, looking for something.
"Spike?" Xander asks in alarm.
"You're hurt," Spike states, concern in his voice.
"No I'm not."
"I can smell the blood," Spike says, confused as Xander pushes him away. "You sure you're okay?"
Xander pulls of his flannel shirt. "I'm fine," he says with a chuckle. He points to the gauze bandage on his upper arm with a grin. "Must be this you smell."
Spikes back on him in an instant, grabbing at Xander's arm holding on firmly. He lifts his eyes, meeting Xander's. "What the bloody hell are you grinning like that for? You said you weren't hurt!"
"I'm not." Xander chuckles as he slowly peels that bandage off, revealing his new tattoo. His grin is even bigger than it had been on his way home, and he's ready to start pinging off the walls in anticipation, waiting for Spike's reaction. Spike grasps Xander's arm firmly, eyeing the black and gold design on Xander's bicep. "What d'ya think?" Xander asks.
"It's a tattoo," Spike says, glaring at him from under his eyelashes. His voice is low and the tone harsh and clipped.
"Yeah."
"It's my name."
"Duh," Xander says with a chuckle, leaning in for a kiss.
He doesn't get his kiss though, because before he knows it, Spike's hand connects with the back of his head and they both yelp in pain. "What the hell was that for?" Xander asks, shoving Spike away from him.
"You bloody stupid fuckwit," Spike hisses though gritted teeth, the palm of his hand pressed to his forehead. "You tattooed my name on your sodding arm!"
"No shit, dumbass," Xander replies with a glare, striding further into the apartment, rubbing his head where Spike had hit him. Spike's not reacting the way Xander thought he would. He'd been so certain Spike would have been preening, strutting around like a peacock at the thought if his lover wanting to permanently brand himself with his name. So certain that Spike would be as turned on as he was, and would celebrate what Xander saw as a declaration of unending faith and devotion by fucking him into next week. Instead Spike's glaring at him, scowling.
"I was there when they did it," Xander says. "What the hell is wrong with you anyway? I thought you would like it; kind of thought it would be a nice anniversary present."
Spike drops his hand and looks at him incredulously, "'S'not our anniversary," he says, and Xander can tell he's thinking, can almost see the gears turning in Spike's brain. With a frown, Spike cocks his head a little. "Is it?"
"Sort of," Xander scowls as he sits on the couch. "Five years since the night Angel offered me up to you as a snack."
Spike doesn't say anything, just stands there between the kitchen and the living room chewing on his lip. Xander's adrenaline rush is fading as he sits on the couch, leg bouncing slightly as he starts to think he may have miscalculated his importance to Spike. The silence is long and agonizing and Xander's starting to feel supremely stupid. Stupid and very very girlie. Spike exhales slowly, and Xander sneaks a glance his way.
"Been that long, huh?" Spike finally asks as their eyes meet.
"Yeah," Xander says with a shrug. The couch dips as Spike takes up a seat next to him. Spike reaches over to take up his arm again. Xander resists the urge to push him away. "Look, I made a mistake. I thought you would like it, okay? Guess I was wrong."
"I like it," Spike says softly, and Xander can feel the thrum start up again as Spike's thumb ghosts over the fresh ink. He shivers at the touch. He turns to look at Spike, who is staring at Xander's arm looking very pensive.
"Then what's the problem?"
Spike meets his eyes, and Xander can see the questions and uncertainty. "A tattoo is forever, ya git. Gonna be stuck with it till the day ya die."
Xander can't help but grin again. "Kind of like you."
The look on Spike's face is priceless, all wide-eyed and bewildered. His mouth is hanging open slightly and he's stunned silent, a definite sign of shock for Spike. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Xander echoes. He can't help but laugh. He leans in for a kiss, his lips brushing over Spike's. "I love you, ya dope." he whispers against Spike's mouth.
~fin
