thismaz | Bewitched, Chapter 4

Title: Bewitched, Chapter 4
Pairing: S/X
Rating: PG for this chapter. Touches of NC-17 later.
Summary: When Valentine's Day arrives, Dru dips her finger in the brew and gives it a stir.
Word Count: 1,760
Betaed by

sparrow2000 and DJ, with many thanks. Thanks also to Sparrow for her help with conflabbing on plot twists and forms.
Comments: Are greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: here.

Prologue here, with a link to the other chapters, or you can find the whole thing, in reverse order, in tags.

Chapter 4

Inside, the Sunnydale Hilton looked like any modern hotel Xander had ever seen on TV. The large entrance lobby was painted in neutral colours, with vertical blinds hanging, ceiling to floor, inside the plate glass windows that faced the street. There was a scattering of beige coloured sofas off to one side. Across the equally beige, mottled marble floor and opposite the bank of elevators was an imposing mahogany reception desk and next to that was a small shop, which appeared to sell toiletries, jewellery and newspapers. Xander absorbed it all in one awed glance, before taking a fortifying breath and pushing Spike over to the counter.

The man behind the desk watched them approach and moved over to the portion of the counter that was set lower than the rest. He looked about the same age as Xander's dad, but much better dressed. "Good evening, Gentlemen," he said. "How may we help you this evening?"

"Apologies for the late arrival," Spike replied and Xander almost gaped at the sudden gentility of his voice. "We've had a hell of a journey. Flight was late and they've lost our luggage. It will no doubt arrive next week." Xander couldn't see his face, but he could tell from his voice that Spike was smiling. "We weren't supposed to stop in Sunnydale. On our way to London, you know. These internal flights will be the death of me. Is your penthouse free?"

The receptionist blinked under this barrage of information, but he pulled himself together quickly and smiled ingratiatingly. "Certainly, sir. It does happen to be vacant, at the moment. Will you be staying long?"

Spike sat back in his chair, bracing his hands on the arms. "A few days, I expect. I need to rest, before I'll be fit to resume our journey."

"Of course, sir. Allow me to check and make sure no one has a reservation for later in the week." He moved away to the middle of the desk and the sounds of a keyboard informed Xander that he was working the computer hidden behind the higher portion of the counter.

Xander leant down to Spike's ear. "Penthouse?" he whispered.

"Sure, love. Only the best." Spike sounded immeasurably pleased with himself.

Xander planted a quick kiss on the side of Spike's neck but straightened hurriedly when the tapping sound from behind the desk ceased and the receptionist returned.

"The penthouse is available until Monday, sir," the man said. "I do hope that is satisfactory, but with so little notice..." he trailed off in such a way that Xander could hear the unspoken suggestion that if they had only given him warning, he would have ensured it was free for as long as they could wish.

"That's fine," Spike replied. "I only hope our luggage arrives before we leave, or we'll be forced to buy more clothes." He pulled out his wallet and handed over a credit card. "I'm just grateful that the Strat went with the rest of the group. If American Airlines had lost my guitar, I would not be nearly so sanguine."

Thank you, Mr..." the man turned the card over and looked at it, "Jones."

Spike laughed. "A nom de guerre," he explained. "My agent insists. But don't worry, it's good. And I'm not one of those artists who wreck hotel rooms, either." He waved a negligent hand, indicating his useless legs. "But if I were, it would be good for that too." Once again, Xander could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm sure that will be fine, sir." The man swiped the card through the reader he had set down in front of him, studied it for a moment, then picked up a couple of key cards which he handed across with the returned credit card. "The elevator on the right will take you to the top floor, sir." He gave a nod of his head that was almost a bow. "And if there is anything else I can do for you, anything you might want, I would be more than happy to have it delivered to your room."

"Thank you, James, we'll be sure to bear that in mind." Spike turned his head and looked up at Xander. "Let's go and find a comfortable bed, love," he suggested, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Xander blushed and frowned in embarrassment and tried not to look at the receptionist. "Once we're settled, we'll get room service to deliver some supper. You must be starved."

Xander turned Spike’s chair around and pushed him hurriedly across the lobby. He managed to restrain himself until the elevator doors had shut behind them and the indicator light was sliding through the numbers, but then he collapsed against the wall and gazed dumbstruck at Spike’s amused expression. Eventually he pulled himself together and shook his head, unable to withstand Spike’s smile. "That was amazing," he said. "Where did you get that voice? That man thinks you're some sort of rock star now, doesn't he? How did you know his name?"

Spike snorted. "It's a talent, I reckon and he had a name tag, pet. Always pays to treat the help with respect. They're much more willing, if you do. Pays to keep them off balance, too." He laughed. "He didn't know what to make of me - punk with a posh voice, rock star with a huge bank balance - so he settled for servility. They always do. He'll have seen the credit limit on the card. Bet he'll be happy to bring up a special delivery, in his own time, for the tip he reckons I'm worth." He twisted around and lifted his hand to Xander's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "Meantime," he continued, when the indicator bell tinged to tell them they had arrived and he let Xander go, "I want a bath, a soft bed and a drink, not necessarily in that order." The doors opened. "So, let's go raid the mini fridge, eh?"

The penthouse was not one room, but a suite, which Xander knew he should have expected, but the sheer size of it surprised him. The living room was decorated in the same neutral style as the lobby, which was a disappointment to Xander, who had hoped for rich colours and velvet drapes. He was beginning to suspect that all the beige was a deliberate hotel policy, designed to offend no one's tastes, and when he looked more closely, even he could see that the neutrality was expensive. The bedroom was decorated in shades of pale green and cream, and had a huge bed that, in spite of not being a four-poster, felt very comfortable when he bounced on it. The en suite had doors from both the living room and the bedroom and had a tub big enough for three, with vents around the side which, Spike explained, were jets and were supposed to make you feel like you were having a massage. Finally, the mini fridge, which they found next to the large screen TV, was really not so much with the mini.

Spike allowed Xander to wheel him around on the inspection tour, but once they got back to the living room he said, "Time to get more comfortable, pet. Why don't you go set the bath running and I'll make us each a drink?"

"Do you need help?" Xander asked.

Wheeling himself across the room, Spike opened the wood panel door of the refrigerator. "Yeah,” he said, “but I can do this bit. Go on, shoo. I fancy a couple of drinks in a hot tub. Want to join me?"

Xander felt himself blush again, but Spike's expression was so soft, with no hint of mockery, that in spite of his nervousness he smiled and stammered, "Sure, uh, yeah, that'd be good. It, it looked big enough to take us both," before he fled back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Safely out of Spike's sight, he leant on his braced arms against the vanity counter and concentrated on breathing, as he analysed his reactions to Spike's suggestion. There was nervousness there, huge embarrassment, shame for his nerves, and more anticipated shame for his body, but there was also eagerness, excitement and a strong desire to reclaim the physical closeness that the car journey to the hotel had promised.

He didn't doubt that Spike loved him. He knew that he did. He knew it in a way that made the word doubt disappear from the dictionary. He didn't doubt that Spike would always love him, just as he would always love Spike. But Spike was beautiful. Beautiful and sexy. And Xander was... Xander wasn’t. Xander was an ordinary boy who probably ate too much junk food and, after an entire school career being beaten up by bigger boys, couldn’t forget how weedy he was, compared to Spike’s muscled strength.

"Okay, Xan-man," he thought, metaphorically girding his loins, a shiver of excitement disrupting his doubts, "it may be new to you, but he's almost two hundred years old, according to Giles, so he's done this before." The thought was both intimidating and comforting. He wasn’t jealous of those other lovers, although he did wish, for a moment, that he’d been born in an earlier age and met Spike then. "He's experienced and he's old enough to know what he likes, and he likes you. So stop worrying. You don't have anything hidden away that'll surprise and disgust him. You're nothing special, but you're not repellent either."

Lifting his head, Xander stared at his face in the mirror. He looked exactly the same as he had last week, before the madness with the girls at school started. Standing back he considered as much of himself as the mirror allowed. He'd worn his baggiest clothes that morning, the denim shirt billowed around him, but it didn't disguise the fact that, compared to Spike, he was fat. He looked down. His jeans hung on him and pooled around his feet. What had he been thinking? How could Spike love this? Except that he did. A wry smile twisted his lips. Maybe that would be enough. Maybe, if he just held onto that thought, he'd be okay. And there was no doubt that the promise of a naked Spike was a prize to tempt him to far more difficult feats than stripping off his own clothes.

Taking a fortifying breath, Xander turned to the tub and set the water running. Then he went back out to the living room to face Spike.

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