If you’re still taking prompts, spike/buffy “touch”
🥹🥹🥹Thank you for giving me Spuffy! Mind you, I haven't written them since I was 15-16 so that was a very long time ago! This would take place in Chosen (7x22), you know the scene the night before the big battle with Giles playing DND with Andrew, Xander, Dawn and Amanda with Anya snoring? There's a scene where we see Buffy walking down the stairs to the basement and Spike gets up on his feet and the scene fades to black, leaving it for viewers to interpret what's happening next. So this is that!
The amulet slinks down off his hand as he stands up, softly landing on the mattress in a pile of chains, as if it is the least important thing in this room right now. And for a moment, it is. As of right now, nothing seems to matter but the two of them, standing across from each other, staring at each other. Spike doesn't move. Lets his feet stay glued to the concrete floor as Buffy approaches him with tentative steps. If Spike was alive, he would hold his breath. Inhale nervously as the slayer walks up into his space, but leaves just enough space between them. Her gaze locks with his own, and they are so fond. So full of… adoration. It feels like a risk to even think it. That it's not his imagination or his wishful thinking conjuring up a fake scenario that soulless Spike certainly would have.
But it's real. She is here, and it's real, and Spike is terrified to know what it means. What it could mean.
Even more so when they're up to who-knows-what tomorrow with no idea of what the outcome could be. For all they know, this could be their last night on earth.
And she's down here. With him.
He is the first one to break eye contact. Has to leave a little bit more space between them before his brain jumps to more irrational conclusions. Moves to sit back on the cot. "Shouldn't you be up there, playin' nice with the others? Last night on earth and all?"
Buffy wrinkles her nose. "Nah." The mattress of the cot dips as she settles down next to him. Not quite pressed to him, but close enough that their shoulders are touching. "I'm not much for crowds these days."
Spike's eyes lingers on her to catch the amusement in her eyes before he catches on and ducks his head to share the amusement over her words mirroring his own from over a year ago when they had been sitting outside on Buffy's porch. "Coming down here for a breather, then? Probably for the best. Dunno if we'll have much of a chance to breathe tomorrow."
"You least of all," Buffy teases, bumping her shoulder to his.
"Make fun of the vampire, why don't you."
"Won't just be yours, if all goes right," Spike reminds her, and he can feel Buffy tense up beside him.
"What if it doesn't? Go right, I mean?" There's that uncertainty he's seen far more than he likes as of late.
"Then they'll still face one pissed off slayer and her army and…" his gaze lands on the amulet next to him. "Whatever this thing does." The cot creaks as Buffy leans over to take a closer look at the trinket, hovering over Spike's lap. When she pulls away, she rests her chin onto Spike's shoulder.
"Angel said something about cleansing powers. Or scrubbing. He was very unclear about that."
Spike scoffs. More so at the mention of the name, much to Buffy's amusement, it seems, because she's smiling. "Whatever it is, I better hope it does its job, or I'll be wearing it for nothing. Can't say it's a look I can pull off."
"Didn't you use to borrow Xander's Hawaiian shirts?"
Buffy chuckles again and this time burrows her face onto the crook of Spike's neck. His arm moves instinctively around her shoulders to bring her closer, causing her to rest more snugly against him. He can feel her relax. Hear her blood pumping and her heart thumping harder and louder. She has no idea how much these things are overwhelming his vampire senses, how intoxicating it is to have her near him. To feel her scent overpower him so mightily. Soulless Spike would have marveled in this. Would have made snide comments, mocking her, rile her up until she had him pinned and let her use him to degrade herself.
Soulful Spike had none of those desires. The lust was still there. Was all there. But his conscious was clearer and mind fuller. Being near Buffy like this felt like a reward he didn't deserve, and she was giving it to him willingly. Even now when he could hear her heart speed up as she laced her fingers with his own. Her scent changed into something sweeter, intoxicating his nostrils so impactfully as she squeezed her fingers between her own and then lifted their joint hands to kiss the tips of his fingers.
Spike could only stare. Watch as her eyes locked with his as her lips brushed softly over his digits.
Her name slipped out from his lips as helplessly as he felt, because this was too much. Far more than he deserved, even after these past few nights of them sharing a bed together or him holding her.
Buffy's gaze remains soft. Almost pleading and Spike felt his eyes tear up. She wanted him. He could feel it. Sense it with the entirety of his being, and he wanted her too. He wanted her so badly that he was certain his soul was screaming out for her to do more, to touch him, to feel him.
A hand touches his cheek. Softly brushing away his tears with the pad of her thumb as Spike lets his forehead rest against Buffy's. "Buffy…" he pleads again, and he's not sure what he's pleading for. But Buffy's hand is still touching his cheek, caressing him as if he matters. As if he's worthy of her touch. She assures him by leaning in. Pressing her lips right underneath his eye by the side of his nose. It's such a delicate touch, but Spike can feel the meaning of it pouring out from her lips through his skin. She leans in to do it again on the other side of his face this time. Moves her lips to his cheek, his jaw. There is nothing sexual behind those kisses. Just comforting touches that fills Spike's soul with pleasant warmth he shouldn't be feeling as a vampire.
Buffy shifts, then. Moving slowly to trap Spike's thighs between his own. If Spike's heartbeat was still active, it would beat all the way through his chest by now with the way Buffy is looking at him so fondly in a way he could only ever dream of. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe the battle was over and he had died and gone to some sort of vampire heaven.
Buffy tilts his head up gently. Letting his eyes meet hers as she cradles her face between her warm hands. He can feel her breath hitting his cold skin as she leans in to press just one more kiss right above his lips. She leans in again, and pauses. Eyes searching for permission that Spike doesn't dare to give because he still feel like he is crossing a line.
"It's okay, William," Buffy whispers, as if she knows, because she probably does know what is going through his head. But it's the name being uttered that makes Spike feel more reassured than anything. The name he was born with, the name his soul belongs to. Hearing her say it so profoundly is what brings him to smile. What makes him sob and makes him nod and it's what finally brings their lips together.
Maybe he is worthy, he thinks as they lay down together, entwined in each other's arms and lips.
She believes I am, he decides, with finality.
