Written for Psubrat's birthday, and fondly dedicated to her.
Spring
The rain soaking Buffy to the bones had at least one advantage. It hid
the tears that had rolled down her cheeks, erasing them as if they had
never existed. The weather, in the wet and dreary first hours of
spring, suited her mood. By day, the town seemed caught between two
seasons; cold gray buildings all around, burgeoning trees and
flowerbeds in the park she was haunting. But now, in the dark, with
only artificial lighting every dozen yards, everything was still caught
in the stillness of winter.
She wasn’t even sure what town she was in anymore; there had been so
many of them in the past months that everything was blurring together.
She enjoyed her little trip around the world with her lover more than
she could say, but she was also beginning to long for a place to call
home, for a purpose to her days, for friends and family close enough to
hug whenever she wanted. It was even worse at that moment, because she
and Spike had had an argument.
It didn’t happen very often – far less often than it used too, at least
– but it still did. A careless word, an exasperated look, an
insignificant something would suddenly be blown out of proportion and
become the start of a stupid argument. That was what had happened. She
couldn’t even remember how it began this time. She only knew that she
felt lonelier than ever. Colder than ever. As if these beautiful months
in the heat of his arms had been nothing more than a dream.
A drop of water slid down her back and she shuddered. Before she had
taken two more steps, a warm, heavy leather coat was eased onto her
shoulders. She wasn’t really surprised when she turned to see Spike
there. He may not be a vampire anymore, but his stalking habits had not
changed. Accepting the duster as the peace offering it was, she slid
her arms inside the sleeves. He smiled at her, and in that simple curve
of his lips was etched uncertainty, apprehension, sorrow, love. As one,
they reached toward each other, the embrace surprisingly warm despite
their cold and wet clothes; the quarrel forgotten, forgiven now that
they had found one another again.
Pushing wet strands of hair away from her cheek, he leaned down to her
face, alternating brushes of his lips and sweet whispers against her
skin.
“’M sorry… Can’t bear to be away from you… Missed you… Love you… Need you… So much…”
Her hands moved from the nape of his neck to his back, sliding under
his increasingly sticky shirt and t-shirt to find his skin and pull his
body closer to hers. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she could feel
his hardening length pressed against her, and he covered her mouth with
his for a quick kiss.
“Want you,” he murmured raggedly. “Can’t lose you again.”
His eyes were darkened by desire, his voice pleading, but all she could
see and hear was his fear. Walking away from their argument had seemed
like the best thing to do at the time, but now she could see that she
had involuntarily made things worse.
“You have me, love. I promise, all of me. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
Pulling him away from the park alley and toward a cluster of trees, she
initiated another kiss, deeper this time, with a sensual touch that had
no other goal than to reassure him – and herself – that everything was
alright. She practically mewled into his mouth when he palmed her
breast through her wet shirt, flicking his thumb back and forth against
her nipple, hardened by the cold.
She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his shoulder,
shivering in time to the sweet ministrations offered to both of her
nipples now. His lips sought the sensitive spot just beneath her ear
and she took a shaking breath as he began nibbling and licking a path
down her throat. It occurred to her that it was utterly unfair that he
had her gasping and trembling while he was himself apparently
unaffected. She pressed her palm to his cock, which was clearly
outlined by his jeans, and she was satisfied when he practically jumped
under her touch.
A nagging little voice was saying quite loudly that they ought to take
this back to the hotel, but she didn’t want to listen. They had done
much more in much less secluded places back in Sunnydale, and right now
they both needed this contact, these touches, each other, more than
they needed privacy. And in any case, the park seemed deserted.
With a flick of her wrist, his button and zipper were undone, and he
breathed her name as she carefully pulled his cock out. She wrapped her
hand around him and began pumping, slowly at first, in time with his
massaging hand on her breast. The too long sleeve of the duster was
brushing against his length each time her hand moved down, and judging
by his harsh breathing, it wasn’t unpleasant.
Concentrated as she was on giving him pleasure, she was startled when
his right hand dropped from her breast to the apex of her legs. Sneaky
fingers found their way inside her pants and panties, and were soon
pushing inside her, thrusting in time to her own movements, with a
thumb pressed rhythmically against her clit.
Soft moans and encouragements rose into the night as they gradually
increased their tempo; warm and wet hands stroking flesh with the only
goal of bringing relief to the other. She came with a strangled cry
when he gently bit her shoulder, and her tightening hold on his cock
brought him to his own climax. For a long while, after clothes had been
straightened out, they remained huddled against the tree, simply
holding each other and sharing the peace of the night.
Home ~ Cleveland-verse
The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.