Andrew decided he’d just wait for his pants in the basement. Not like anyone came down here anyway. He decided to sit on Spike’s cot in the far corner. He took a seat and smiled. Spike slept here. He picked up Spike’s pillow and put it up to his nose, taking a deep whiff. He smelled like shampoo. Spike smelled like shampoo, smoke, and something else Andrew wasn’t sure of. But whatever it was, it smelt really good. He laid down and imagined Spike laying on top of him, giving him the naughty grin he had seen him wear so many times before. Andrew felt all the action of the night finally catching up with him and he felt dreams filling his head. Dreams full of the smell of Spike.
*~*~*~*~*
Andrew opened his eyes, beaming with the pleasure his dream had given him. He thought he must still be dreaming when he saw Spike’s face swimming into view and something sitting on his feet, but he wasn’t. It was the real thing.
“Morning. Care to tell me just what you’re doing in my bed, wearing my pants?” Spike’s voice wasn’t quite as comforting as it had been in Andrew’s dream, but it still shot through him like an arrow.
“Uh... Well, my pants got dirty and they’re in the washer, I didn’t think you’d mind. They’re too big anyway, it wasn’t like I was *stealing* them or anything. And the bed part, ah... I kinda... Just fell asleep. I was gonna wait for my pants and then I just got... really tired.” Andrew sat up, but he couldn’t get his lower legs out.
“Ah, ah. You aren’t going anywhere, mate.” Spike gave him that malicious smile again and Andrew felt himself hardening again. At least the pants were loose enough on him that it wasn’t as obvious at it could be. “You’re lying.”
“No I’m not!” Andrew protested, trying to move his lower legs the slighest bit bit even Spike’s ass was too strong for him. He wiggled his toes a little bit, making Spike start and crane his back a little.
“Hey, stop it, that feels funny.” Andrew giggled. “You thinks that funny, do you, nerd boy?” Andrew’s smile faded completely.
“Uh, sir, no sir.” Andrew tried again to get away from the vampire, but Spike grabbed his leg this time. He was really, really cold. And his grip was firm, but tender. He had rough hands, Andrew could feel it through the jeans, but they were still soft somehow. Andrew bit his lip to keep from getting another orgasm.
“No need to get cute. Buffy told me I could do *whatever* I want with you. That scare you?” Andrew shook his head no. “No? Come on! I’m scary!” Andrew laughed. The pleading look in Spike’s eyes cracked him up. He was just so adorable when he looked helpless.
“Well, you’ve got a soul. And I didn’t do anything wrong.” Andrew relaxed. He wouldn’t mind sitting here, Spike on his shins and feet, all day.
“Yeah, guess not. I just wanted to make your pee your pants. Or my pants.” He won another laugh from Andrew. “Is that what you did to the first ones?” Andrew turned red. Spike smiled, knowing exactly what had happened. “Couldn’t hold it?”
“Uh...” Andrew shifted his shoulders, studying the corner of the blue sheets with false interest. Spike disregarded the discomfort with a hand wave.
“Doesn't matter. Happens to everyone. Who got to you? Buffy? Dawn? Willow? One of those little prattling teenagers?” Spike gave him an eyebrow raise. Andrew let his breath shorten. He could never tell Spike it was actually him who had gotten to him.
“Anya,” he said as soon as the thought popped into his head.
“Ripe girl, that one. Bit hard to handle though. Good in the bed. Or on the table, whatever.” Andrew gave a nervous laugh. This was Spike’s idea of holding him hostage in his bed? To talk to him about girls? Not exactly what Andrew would have in mind if he had Spike all prisonery.
“Yeah. But you don’t... want to do that with her again, right?” Andrew asked, playing along.
“Oh, hell yeah. But I couldn’t. Maybe in an alternate dimension. If things were different, oh yeah. But not now. Not again. You can try her. Heard she’s got a soft spot for nerds.” Spike turned his attention to his thumbs. He was obviously still talking to Andrew, but he wasn’t going to talk *to* him anymore.
“Do you still love Buffy?” Andrew asked, sitting all the way up and putting his hands over his hips. His hard on was gone, but it might come back at anytime.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, reckon I always will. God, the things I did to her... Vampires have a pretty tweaked sense of what love is, you see. Yeah... But now I know what it is. For real. But I couldn’t. I had my chance. Actually, I never did. And I don’t deserve one.”
“Even if she wanted to give you one? You would say no?”
“I don’t know. As if she would. I would probably want to say yes so badly, but I would remember that time... I tried to... In the bathroom... I would remember that and I couldn’t say yes. I would have to say no.”
“Could you be with someone else? After you said no?”
“I don’t know... Why are you asking me all these fucking questions?”
“Uh, no reason!” Andrew said hurriedly. “I figured, since I’m kinda stuck...”
“Oh right.” Spike got up. “Go.” He motioned his head to up the stairs. “Go!”
“Are you sure, ‘cause if you need someone to talk to-”
“No, go. I’m fine.” Andrew gave him one last, yearning look and climbed up the stairs, but not all the way. He laid down on the step, his shirt lifting up and his stomach laying on the cold concrete. He imagined that was exactly what Spike’s flesh felt like if it were underneath him. He watched the vampire through the ga[ between the wall and the stairs. He sat on the cot, head in hands and sobbed. Andrew was taken aback. The vampire he had been having erections over, the bad-ass, he was crying like he had done.
Andrew watched, silently until he felt like he was invading Spike’s privacy and then climbed up the stairs, feeling even more in love with the vampire.
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