*****
Anya knows she never should have come. Xander had said it was over and she should have believed him. But she wants him back and Anya *always* gets what she wants.
Except this time.
What Anya gets is the shock of her newly mortal life.
Frozen on the landing of Xander's basement steps she watches. Can't tear her eyes away from the scene on the bed.
Xander isn't alone. Spike is with him, *on* him really. And Xander isn't complaining. He's moaning. The same kind of moans he always made when they had sex. Anya finds it disturbing that Xander is making those sounds for someone else. She backs up a step and a loose board makes itself known. Anya freezes; wondering what she will say when they both look at her.
But they don't look at her.
Xander can't because he is blindfolded with something that looks like red silk. Blindfolded, hands reaching over his head to grip the headboard in a white-knuckled grip. White-knuckled because of the things Spike is doing to his body.
Spike doesn't look at her either. He seems to be concentrating only on the man beneath him. Anya can see why Xander might desire Spike. He's lean and lightly muscled with pale skin that shines in the half-light of the basement. A striking figure. Such a contrast to Xander's dark hair and California tan.
They don't look so she doesn't leave. Can't leave. Can't move from her uncomfortable position pressed against Xander's basement wall. She's transfixed by the sight of the two men on the bed. Spike hovering over Xander kissing and nipping his way down Xander's chest. Anya can see the muscles in Spike's back ripple as he moves. Can see the way Xander arches into his touch.
They look...good together. As much as Anya doesn't want to admit it, they mesh well. Interlocking parts and all. And she almost laughs because who would have thought that Xander Harris could put on such a good act? How many times has he threatened to stake Spike? How many times has he been out and out hateful to the vampire?
Spike is due credit as well. He plays his part just as good, if not better, than Xander. Anya knows now that every threat directed toward Xander has been an empty one. They would have to be. The tender expression on Spike's face is all the proof she needs.
She should leave. It isn't right to stand here and watch. It hurts her to see them together. Emotional pain is new to Anya and she doesn't like it at all.
Even through the hurt she can feel an undercurrent of...arousal?
Anya doesn't understand this reaction. Why does her breathing speed up at the sight of Spike slowly thrusting against Xander? She can see how Xander fights the urge to reach out and touch the other man. This is a game she has played before with past lovers. Taking away sight and touch heightens the pleasure, magnifies it to an almost painful point.
Spike's hand reaches out and grabs what can only be lube from the bedside table. Anya watches as he flips the cap and pours some into his hand. Coats his fingers in the stuff and...
She should leave. Anya knows what's coming next. Does she really want to be here for this? Does she want to see Spike prepare Xander and then fuck him?
She does. She has to see this even though she knows how it ends. And she still doesn't know why. Why her panties are damp. Why she can't look away.
And.
Oh.
Spike's...
Sliding a finger into Xander, a wicked smile on his face when Xander cries out, back arching off the bed. His skin is coated with a light sheen of sweat as he whimpers and tries to push himself down on Spike's finger. Xander has never been like this with her. He has never looked so...wanton. So eager.
Anya hears Spike whisper something she can't understand and then a second finger joins the first. Whatever he's doing is driving Xander wild but his hands never leave the headboard. Such control. They must have done this more than once.
Spike slowly moves his fingers in and out while his other hand moves restlessly over Xander's body. Tweaking a nipple, running fingers through dark hair, stroking Xander's cheek. Spike murmurs more words Anya doesn't understand, but is glad she can't. It seems too private and vengeance demon or not, she has limits.
Her breath catches in her throat as Spike pulls his fingers out of Xander, drawing another whimper. He gently presses Xander back into the mattress, pale hand splayed across a heaving chest.
The rest of the lube in Spike's hand goes on his cock, slicking it up. He whispers again and this time Anya can hear him.
"Ready, love?"
Frantic nod from Xander. Soft laugh from Spike. Then he's lifting one of Xander's legs until it rests on his shoulder and Xander's other leg wraps around Spike's waist. And then Spike is entering Xander in one long thrust. They both moan and suddenly Anya *knows* why Xander was such a good lover. He knows what it's like to be fucked, knows the feeling. Knows what feels like to be filled, possessed, by someone else. Anya appreciates the fact that Xander used that knowledge to give her wonderful orgasms.
Anya couldn't leave now if she wanted to. The fluid movements of Spike's hips have her hypnotized. He drives into Xander steadily. Hard, fast strokes that make the bed shake and they make Xander shake too. He moans when Spike's hand drops down and strokes Xander's cock in time with the thrusts.
It's hard to say how long Anya stands there and watches Spike fuck... No. Watches Spike *make love* to Xander. All she knows is that her hands keep straying downward to touch herself. Strange that she's turned on by this but Anya has always prided herself on being adaptable. She can accept this new kink, as Xander would call it, of hers. Accept it, but not indulge it after today. She would much rather participate than watch.
Spike's rhythm starts to break apart, his thrusts becoming erratic. He's close to coming and strokes Xander faster. Xander gives a strangled cry and comes, letting go of the headboard to pull Spike into a kiss. Spike pumps one last time and comes, burying his face in Xander's neck.
For the longest time, the only sound Anya can hear is Xander's harsh breathing. But even that gradually evens out and becomes normal. Now is her chance to leave. She turns and puts a careful foot on the first step, praying that it won't choose this moment to creak.
She can't resist one last look. One last image to add to the others in her head.
Spike is looking back at her, a small smile on his face.
Anya is mortified. He did know she was there all along. She risks a glance at Xander and is relieved to see that although the blindfold is gone, his face is turned away from her. They stare at each other for long moments. Finally, Spike's smile widens and he winks at her.
It is enough to spur her into movement. Up the stairs and out the door, Spike's low laughter echoing in her ears. Running into the afternoon sunlight and wondering what the hell just happened.
There will be no getting what she wants this time. Anya knows, without a doubt, that Spike will never give up Xander and she doesn't want that. Not anymore. Maybe she'll try out single life for a while. She's heard about these so-called 'one night stands' and wants to give them a try.
Anya gives one last glance backward before walking away. She silently wishes Xander and Spike well. They won't have an easy time of it. But they're happy and maybe someday she will be too.
End