Not the Kiss of the Devil
Nov. 15th, 2016 03:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: Not the Kiss of the Devil
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: R/M
Challenge/Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nekid_spike Harlots Movie Theater: Kiss of the Devil and November's Nekid Guest: Buffy
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 2,160
Date Written: 15 November 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
He remembers thinking once that he was unworthy of Drusilla. He coveted her and treated her like she was his Princess. He was always gentle with her and tried to protect her from the harsh world all around them. He listened to her ramble about her dolls and the stars until he could no longer stand hearing her insanity and finally barked at her. He saved the world so she could continue to live in it, and all the while, he kept her on a pedestal.
He kept her so high on that pedestal that some would say that she had nowhere to go but down, and when she slipped from it, she fell straight into the arms of another Demon. She didn't bat an eye when she left Spike. She didn't look back until she heard his life was finally mending. She didn't try to bring her boy back to her until she heard he had gone good and "soft", or so she said, but it was really only good.
He remembers thinking, too, that he didn't deserve Harmony, but being with her was never like being with Dru. Drusilla was crazy, but when he used to scoff and say that Harm was loony, it wasn't in the same manner at all. She wasn't just loony; she was stupid and refused to learn. She was the pivotal cheerleader, always bubbly and beautiful but with very little brain nestled underneath her long, blonde hair.
Their relationship was purely sexual, but it wasn't what he needed. Neither woman was, and when his life finally started to improve again, it was because of a woman who he'd never even considered a friend, let alone more. Drusilla was spooked when she learned he was with the Slayer not because of the fact that he'd moved on, but because she was afraid of losing him. Spike fought his attraction for Buffy for a long time not because of Drusilla but because of the same thing: He, too, was afraid of losing himself.
And the Slayer, Spike knew, had been terrified of losing everything she held dear because she couldn't keep fighting the mutual attraction between them. When they first brought down a house together, she was afraid they'd bring down the world. And they did. They brought down his world to a screaming, terrifying stop for a while.
She told him once kissing him was like kissing the Devil. He'd almost told her he had kissed the Devil and lived, but he'd settled instead for smirking at her from around his cigarette and retorting that she knew she liked it. But he had kissed the Devil. Long before he and Drusilla had set out together to build a life for just the two of them, after Angel had been concerned with a soul and Darla had left their little group that had passed for so long as a family, Angelus had branded him. He'd taken turns every night between fucking and beating him senseless. On a few nights, he'd done both.
Looking at his past, Spike can barely remember a time when violence didn't rule his world. Drusilla had liked for him to get strong with her on occasion, and he'd often vented his frustrations on Harmony. Before them, he'd been the pet, enslaved to Angelus' every whim. As a human, he'd known pain too although not violence. He had been laughed at and scorned, beaten daily with cruel words instead of powerful fists to the point, looking back, he almost prefers the fists to the words.
"You're getting all thinky on me again," Buffy laments, her voice bringing him back to the present.
He blinks down into the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. The beauty before him is completely unmarred despite all the battles she's survived and he knows now is completely his. Buffy pouts seductively up at him and runs a hand over his high, thin cheek. "Whatcha thinking?" she asks.
He shakes his head, then turns his face into her hand and kisses her palm lightly. "It doesn't matter." And it really doesn't, he knows. He needs to leave the past where it belongs: in the past.
"It matters to me," Buffy argues softly.
"I was just . . . thinking."
"I know that, but thinking about what?" she questions again. Her voice is softer as she asks, almost as though she's afraid of his answer, "Drusilla?"
He knows he doesn't have to lie to her. She'll know if he does try to lie, but there's no need for it. They both think of their past lovers. He listens to her ramble at times about Angel, and she listens, even if there's a touch of jealousy in her beautiful, green eyes, when he needs to talk about the Princess of his past. She's even told him before how sweet she thinks it is that he saved the world for Drusilla when they were evil.
"Everything," he finally answers.
Her lovely lips, still flushed from their latest make out session, twist into a half-smirk, half-laugh. "That's a lot," she acknowledges, bringing a deep chuckle from him.
"Yeah. Told ya we didn't need to talk about it."
"You can talk if you want. Always."
"I know." He trails a hand down the side of her bare arm before wrapping her in a hug again. "I was just remembering somebody telling me I kiss like the Devil."
Buffy does smirk this time. He knows her expression is aimed more at herself and the irony of their relationship than at him. But then her smirk vanishes, replaced with a solemn expression. "I was wrong," she whispers.
"Were you?" he asks. He's done so many horrible things. He's felt the blows of violence delivered to him, but he's also dealt out far more than his fair share. He's killed so many and hurt so many more. He even tried to hurt Buffy in a way he'd now kill anybody else for doing.
Her arms wrap around him, returning his hug, as she vows softly, "Yes. I wanted to be angry with you, Spike, but the truth is . . . " Searching carefully for the right words, she begins to explain, "The Devil twists everything beautiful and kills everything. But that's not at all what your kisses have ever made me feel. When I was already dead inside, you were the one who brought me back to life." She's sitting up now, still in his embrace, and turns her head and brushes her lips across his bare shoulder.
Their eyes meet, and she holds his gaze as she continues to explain, "I didn't like what I was feeling. I was afraid of myself as much as I was of you, if not more. I wanted to turn away from you, but I wanted you even more. I needed you. You were the only one who could make me feel anything, and since I couldn't feel what I thought I should be feeling for my friends and family, I tried to make myself feel angry again."
"But I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself for not feeling what I thought I should have been feeling and angry at my friends for not letting me stay dead."
"Do you still wish you were dead?"
"No," she whispers without hesitation, "but that's all because of you. They brought me back, but they only brought my body back. You brought back my heart and my soul. I don't know where I was -- caught somewhere between Heaven and here, I guess --, but you brought me back. I found myself again not because of them or because of me but because of you. You don't have the kiss of the Devil," she concludes, shaking her head and still gazing into his eyes so he can feel the truth of her words and see it in her own gaze. "You have the kiss of an Angel -- "
He smirks and starts to speak, but she interrupts him. "Not that Angel. That Angel belongs to whoever he's with now. I don't want him any more just like I know you don't want your little Princess, Drusilla any more. You chose me over her a long time ago, and I chose you over death. I chose life because of you." She blushes and finally lowers her eyes from his.
He cups her face, lifts her gently, and gazes back into her eyes. "Nobody's ever made me happy like you do, Buffy," he admits softly, understanding that it's now his turn. "I've chosen life so many times because of you. I went after my soul because of you."
"I know," she answers. "You weren't cursed like he was."
"No," he agrees, "I was blessed. Maybe not by my soul -- it can be a bloody nuisance," he adds, lightening the mood and making her crack a humored smile, " -- but because of my reason for wanting it in the first place."
"I think you already had a part of your soul," she says, "from the way you cared for me and for Dawnie -- "
He almost tells her he thinks she's wrong. He almost says that a man with a soul could never do to her what he'd almost done that night in her bathroom. He almost says he doesn't deserve her or her forgiveness but that he'll keep fighting for both for as long as he's still here in this world, living and truly loving it for the first time because of her.
But she's leaning up before him now, perched on her knees and looking at him through eyes suddenly shining bright. He sees everything she is, all she gives to him, and suddenly, he can't speak again as his words stick in his throat. "But that's enough of thinking for now," she tells him, leaning in and taking his lips with hers again.
His tongue remembers how to move as it feels hers slide across it. It perks back to life and wraps around her as he pulls her closer. Her hands slide between their bodies to stroke his staff. Her touch reminds him that she is an expert of so many things, from killing creatures like him to giving him indescribable pleasure. He moans, finding his voice, and she takes his moan into herself, swallowing his sound as she gives him her all in return.
Maybe he did already have a part of his soul. He knows she awoke something in him long before he went looking to become a man who might one day be worthy of her love. She found something in him that no one else ever had before and that even he had believed dead. She says that he brought her back to life, but Spike knows that isn't the only truth. He didn't just bring her back; she brought him back. She brought him back from the Evil side. She brought him back to life and to loving life. She restored him heart and soul and gave him more -- not just pleasure but everything good and most of all love -- than any one else ever has, more even than he ever deserved.
As Buffy moves on top of him, Spike thinks again of how she once accused him of having the kiss of the Devil, and he remembers how he once feared her changing him. He understands now that they were both wrong. This love could never be of the Devil. It could never be wrong for it's saved them both. They've saved each other. She is the world's heroine, but she's his too. She brought him back to life, and as long as he has her, he plans on never wavering from the light again.
Their love isn't from the Devil. He never really believed in God before her, but then there are so many things he never believed before he fell in love with her and she finally returned his love with her own. There are so many impossible things that she's made possible for him, so much she's given him, and some divine power somewhere, Spike knows, let her come back to him and more, it let her love him as well.
Their love isn't of the Devil. It's of the most powerful, greatest good there is. It's of her, her decision to love him despite all his faults, her decision to save him despite all the reasons he's not worthy of her, her decision to make him whole again when nobody else ever has or could. Yes, he has her on a pedestal, just as he swore he'd never put another woman, but unlike his former Princess, this Queen of his heart deserves it. She deserves it, and he knows she'll never fall anywhere but in his arms. And he holds her tightly in those arms as he makes love to her again and again throughout the night.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: R/M
Challenge/Prompt:
nekid_spike Harlots Movie Theater: Kiss of the Devil and November's Nekid Guest: BuffyWarning(s): None
Word Count: 2,160
Date Written: 15 November 2016
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
He remembers thinking once that he was unworthy of Drusilla. He coveted her and treated her like she was his Princess. He was always gentle with her and tried to protect her from the harsh world all around them. He listened to her ramble about her dolls and the stars until he could no longer stand hearing her insanity and finally barked at her. He saved the world so she could continue to live in it, and all the while, he kept her on a pedestal.
He kept her so high on that pedestal that some would say that she had nowhere to go but down, and when she slipped from it, she fell straight into the arms of another Demon. She didn't bat an eye when she left Spike. She didn't look back until she heard his life was finally mending. She didn't try to bring her boy back to her until she heard he had gone good and "soft", or so she said, but it was really only good.
He remembers thinking, too, that he didn't deserve Harmony, but being with her was never like being with Dru. Drusilla was crazy, but when he used to scoff and say that Harm was loony, it wasn't in the same manner at all. She wasn't just loony; she was stupid and refused to learn. She was the pivotal cheerleader, always bubbly and beautiful but with very little brain nestled underneath her long, blonde hair.
Their relationship was purely sexual, but it wasn't what he needed. Neither woman was, and when his life finally started to improve again, it was because of a woman who he'd never even considered a friend, let alone more. Drusilla was spooked when she learned he was with the Slayer not because of the fact that he'd moved on, but because she was afraid of losing him. Spike fought his attraction for Buffy for a long time not because of Drusilla but because of the same thing: He, too, was afraid of losing himself.
And the Slayer, Spike knew, had been terrified of losing everything she held dear because she couldn't keep fighting the mutual attraction between them. When they first brought down a house together, she was afraid they'd bring down the world. And they did. They brought down his world to a screaming, terrifying stop for a while.
She told him once kissing him was like kissing the Devil. He'd almost told her he had kissed the Devil and lived, but he'd settled instead for smirking at her from around his cigarette and retorting that she knew she liked it. But he had kissed the Devil. Long before he and Drusilla had set out together to build a life for just the two of them, after Angel had been concerned with a soul and Darla had left their little group that had passed for so long as a family, Angelus had branded him. He'd taken turns every night between fucking and beating him senseless. On a few nights, he'd done both.
Looking at his past, Spike can barely remember a time when violence didn't rule his world. Drusilla had liked for him to get strong with her on occasion, and he'd often vented his frustrations on Harmony. Before them, he'd been the pet, enslaved to Angelus' every whim. As a human, he'd known pain too although not violence. He had been laughed at and scorned, beaten daily with cruel words instead of powerful fists to the point, looking back, he almost prefers the fists to the words.
"You're getting all thinky on me again," Buffy laments, her voice bringing him back to the present.
He blinks down into the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen. The beauty before him is completely unmarred despite all the battles she's survived and he knows now is completely his. Buffy pouts seductively up at him and runs a hand over his high, thin cheek. "Whatcha thinking?" she asks.
He shakes his head, then turns his face into her hand and kisses her palm lightly. "It doesn't matter." And it really doesn't, he knows. He needs to leave the past where it belongs: in the past.
"It matters to me," Buffy argues softly.
"I was just . . . thinking."
"I know that, but thinking about what?" she questions again. Her voice is softer as she asks, almost as though she's afraid of his answer, "Drusilla?"
He knows he doesn't have to lie to her. She'll know if he does try to lie, but there's no need for it. They both think of their past lovers. He listens to her ramble at times about Angel, and she listens, even if there's a touch of jealousy in her beautiful, green eyes, when he needs to talk about the Princess of his past. She's even told him before how sweet she thinks it is that he saved the world for Drusilla when they were evil.
"Everything," he finally answers.
Her lovely lips, still flushed from their latest make out session, twist into a half-smirk, half-laugh. "That's a lot," she acknowledges, bringing a deep chuckle from him.
"Yeah. Told ya we didn't need to talk about it."
"You can talk if you want. Always."
"I know." He trails a hand down the side of her bare arm before wrapping her in a hug again. "I was just remembering somebody telling me I kiss like the Devil."
Buffy does smirk this time. He knows her expression is aimed more at herself and the irony of their relationship than at him. But then her smirk vanishes, replaced with a solemn expression. "I was wrong," she whispers.
"Were you?" he asks. He's done so many horrible things. He's felt the blows of violence delivered to him, but he's also dealt out far more than his fair share. He's killed so many and hurt so many more. He even tried to hurt Buffy in a way he'd now kill anybody else for doing.
Her arms wrap around him, returning his hug, as she vows softly, "Yes. I wanted to be angry with you, Spike, but the truth is . . . " Searching carefully for the right words, she begins to explain, "The Devil twists everything beautiful and kills everything. But that's not at all what your kisses have ever made me feel. When I was already dead inside, you were the one who brought me back to life." She's sitting up now, still in his embrace, and turns her head and brushes her lips across his bare shoulder.
Their eyes meet, and she holds his gaze as she continues to explain, "I didn't like what I was feeling. I was afraid of myself as much as I was of you, if not more. I wanted to turn away from you, but I wanted you even more. I needed you. You were the only one who could make me feel anything, and since I couldn't feel what I thought I should be feeling for my friends and family, I tried to make myself feel angry again."
"But I wasn't angry at you. I was angry at myself for not feeling what I thought I should have been feeling and angry at my friends for not letting me stay dead."
"Do you still wish you were dead?"
"No," she whispers without hesitation, "but that's all because of you. They brought me back, but they only brought my body back. You brought back my heart and my soul. I don't know where I was -- caught somewhere between Heaven and here, I guess --, but you brought me back. I found myself again not because of them or because of me but because of you. You don't have the kiss of the Devil," she concludes, shaking her head and still gazing into his eyes so he can feel the truth of her words and see it in her own gaze. "You have the kiss of an Angel -- "
He smirks and starts to speak, but she interrupts him. "Not that Angel. That Angel belongs to whoever he's with now. I don't want him any more just like I know you don't want your little Princess, Drusilla any more. You chose me over her a long time ago, and I chose you over death. I chose life because of you." She blushes and finally lowers her eyes from his.
He cups her face, lifts her gently, and gazes back into her eyes. "Nobody's ever made me happy like you do, Buffy," he admits softly, understanding that it's now his turn. "I've chosen life so many times because of you. I went after my soul because of you."
"I know," she answers. "You weren't cursed like he was."
"No," he agrees, "I was blessed. Maybe not by my soul -- it can be a bloody nuisance," he adds, lightening the mood and making her crack a humored smile, " -- but because of my reason for wanting it in the first place."
"I think you already had a part of your soul," she says, "from the way you cared for me and for Dawnie -- "
He almost tells her he thinks she's wrong. He almost says that a man with a soul could never do to her what he'd almost done that night in her bathroom. He almost says he doesn't deserve her or her forgiveness but that he'll keep fighting for both for as long as he's still here in this world, living and truly loving it for the first time because of her.
But she's leaning up before him now, perched on her knees and looking at him through eyes suddenly shining bright. He sees everything she is, all she gives to him, and suddenly, he can't speak again as his words stick in his throat. "But that's enough of thinking for now," she tells him, leaning in and taking his lips with hers again.
His tongue remembers how to move as it feels hers slide across it. It perks back to life and wraps around her as he pulls her closer. Her hands slide between their bodies to stroke his staff. Her touch reminds him that she is an expert of so many things, from killing creatures like him to giving him indescribable pleasure. He moans, finding his voice, and she takes his moan into herself, swallowing his sound as she gives him her all in return.
Maybe he did already have a part of his soul. He knows she awoke something in him long before he went looking to become a man who might one day be worthy of her love. She found something in him that no one else ever had before and that even he had believed dead. She says that he brought her back to life, but Spike knows that isn't the only truth. He didn't just bring her back; she brought him back. She brought him back from the Evil side. She brought him back to life and to loving life. She restored him heart and soul and gave him more -- not just pleasure but everything good and most of all love -- than any one else ever has, more even than he ever deserved.
As Buffy moves on top of him, Spike thinks again of how she once accused him of having the kiss of the Devil, and he remembers how he once feared her changing him. He understands now that they were both wrong. This love could never be of the Devil. It could never be wrong for it's saved them both. They've saved each other. She is the world's heroine, but she's his too. She brought him back to life, and as long as he has her, he plans on never wavering from the light again.
Their love isn't from the Devil. He never really believed in God before her, but then there are so many things he never believed before he fell in love with her and she finally returned his love with her own. There are so many impossible things that she's made possible for him, so much she's given him, and some divine power somewhere, Spike knows, let her come back to him and more, it let her love him as well.
Their love isn't of the Devil. It's of the most powerful, greatest good there is. It's of her, her decision to love him despite all his faults, her decision to save him despite all the reasons he's not worthy of her, her decision to make him whole again when nobody else ever has or could. Yes, he has her on a pedestal, just as he swore he'd never put another woman, but unlike his former Princess, this Queen of his heart deserves it. She deserves it, and he knows she'll never fall anywhere but in his arms. And he holds her tightly in those arms as he makes love to her again and again throughout the night.
The End
