"Hey, Giles," Xander said as he walked back into the bedroom, stripping off his sticky clothing along the way. Spike decided that Xander had the right idea and followed suit, removing his own dusty and soot-smeared garments. The bridge hadn't been the cleanest place. Once he was naked, a perfunctory look down told the vampire that he'd managed to get dirty just about everywhere. A quick listen in on Xander's conversation with the Watcher assured Spike that he had enough time for a shower.

Xander considered sitting down on the bed, but nixed the idea. Their sheets were somewhere close to clean and he didn't feel like washing more laundry. "No, Giles, we didn’t see any hellhounds. Not one. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure?" Giles inquired. "Did you go down by the highway?"

Xander grimaced. "Oh yeah, we went down there. Not a single devil dog to be found." That didn't appease the Watcher, who continued his questioning for several minutes whilst Xander was storing his dirty clothes in a hamper.

Spike finished his shower and walked, dripping wet, out into the living room. He could still hear Xander on the phone with Giles. Shaking his head at Xander's plight, the vampire wandered around the main room, picking up his lighter as he went. He flicked on the stereo, letting the machine randomly pick something to listen to. The moon wasn't shining in the window, so Spike lit a few candles, letting their spicy perfume fill the air.

Xander walked into the bathroom, wanting more than anything to flush his phone, and Giles with it. "Look, G-man, Spike and I found nothing. We'll try again tomorrow, ok?" He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, turning the ringer off as he did so. The young man stepped into the shower, turning the water on full hot. His very temporary good mood was fading, as was often the case when talking to Giles.

When Xander stepped out of the bathroom, the first place he looked for Spike was the bedroom. The vampire wasn't there, however. Shrugging, Xander went into the living room. Music played low amidst wavering candlelight. "Spike?" Xander murmured, glancing around the light-and-shadowed interior of the main room.

"Yeah?" Spike answered, sliding up behind Xander. "How's the Watcher?"

Xander relaxed as Spike's cool, welcoming hands dusted across his shoulders. "Pissed off, as usual," He replied. When Spike reached for the towel around his waist, Xander let him. Lithe arms lifted up, taking Xander's along. Spike twined their fingers before bringing his arms back down, locking their bodies together.

Spike smiled as the music played and he drew Xander into a slow dance. "Love," He whispered, "Is a tanglewood tree, in a bower of green, in a forest at dawn." Xander melted back against him, letting Spike lead them in a wide, slow arc across the floor. Faded light danced across Xander's honeyed skin as they passed a table. Spike was drawn to that illuminated flesh, caressing it tenderly with their joined hands.

"But love," The vampire continued. "Is a trackless domain, and the rumor of rain, in the late afternoon..." Xander drank deeply of his lover's voice, letting the rich tones intoxicate him like the finest wine. How could he have doubted this, the love of this creature? No one had ever felt like this about him, he knew that much.

"Love is an old root that creeps," Spike whispered, sliding his cheek against Xander's shoulder, "Thin as a vagrant young vine, it encircles and twines, and it holds the heart fast," Alabaster arms wrapped around Xander's chest, molding them together. "Catches streamers in the wildwood with the stars in their eyes and the moon in their tousled hair."

"But love is a light in the sky," Xander murmured, "And an unspoken lie, and a half-whispered prayer." This vampire had given him what no one else could, what no one else wanted to. Spike willingly changed who he was to keep Xander's love, even though Xander never asked him to do such a thing.

Spike brushed his lips to the nape of Xander's neck. "I'm walkin' down a bone-dry river," He echoed, spinning Xander across the floor, away from the light. "I'm bankin' on the fables of the far, far better things we do..."

Xander's breath hitched, heart pounding. Spike's voice was silk, tantalizing his soul and his body in equal measures. He felt his limbs grow liquid and pliant under his lover's ministrations, his movements becoming as sensuous in arousal as Spike's were all the time.

"I yearn away, I burn away, I turn away the fairest flower of love, 'cause darling..." Spike chanted, leaning back to lay Xander more fully upon him. He wanted them to stay this way forever, wrapped in a spell of soft passion so intense it burned, dark but for the glimmer of candlelight and tears.

"Love's a garden of thorns, how it grows," Xander continued, hips undulating sinuously as Spike dragged their hands along his thighs and up to his stomach. Spike hissed as the young man's body ground against his, applying delicious pressure to his hardness. Still they moved together, gliding around the room in an abstract dance of growing desire and want.

"My body has a number," Spike whispered, "And my face has name and each day looks the same to me." Cool skin seduced warm, luring it to give up some of that blessed heat for mutual gain. Come with me now and we will find the shadows together. They are for us, lover. "This longing is a voice on the wind, and the wages of sin..."

Xander felt weightless as Spike turned him in his arms, twisting their arms overhead until they were once again bound together. Eyes light and dark met briefly as the lovers came together in a kiss so soft, so deep, that the night ached for wanting the same from her lover.

Xander willingly slipped beneath the surface of his lover's passion, submitting to the rising tide of need that filled them both. Spike pushed oh so gently, urging Xander on, tongues sliding wetly, satin and silk skin whispering together. Moisture, painted unhurriedly as fluid hips danced.

Xander felt it first, a warm summer night breeze sweeping through his soul. He shivered even in its welcoming, loving strength, undone by the images it carried. His blonde lover, bent over him with nothing but clear, honest love and lust in his eyes. Spike, laughing at the worst of his jokes, laughter turning to moans as Xander switched from humor to seduction. The young man willingly, wholeheartedly, gave his entire being over to it, to this irresistible, unstoppable euphoria and to the man who had called it to him.

Spike watched Xander lose himself in rapture, holding back for just one more moment, one second longer. He wanted this image to be burned into his mind, onto his eyes, so that he might see it every day and night, no matter how bleak his existence became. But Spike too felt the heated caress of fulfillment, asking and then demanding that he surrender to it, give what he had promised when this dance had begun. He was powerless to deny that payment and capitulated, crying soundlessly upon Xander's lips as he shuddered and emptied himself of his offering.

"Twenty-six," Xander whispered as he drew Spike in for one last kiss. A warm, sure hand slid one of Spike's cooler ones down to press against an ivory hip.

"Bed now," Spike murmured, slowly dancing Xander backwards to their waiting bedroom.