Title: Xander's Taste For Blood
Rating: R for violence
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Physical abuse of a child, biting, turning
Xander's first memorable taste of blood was at the age of three and a half, when Tony Harris backhanded his son for talking while the game was on. The blow to his cheek knocked him off balance, but it didn't make him bleed. His feet tangled as he staggered backwards, cracking his head and elbow against the wall as he went down in a crumpled heap. That didn't make him bleed either.
That first real taste of blood came when his baby teeth dug deep into his trembling lower lip, stifling the sobs that he knew would attract more blows.
Until his seventeenth year Xander never thought twice about sucking a paper-cut finger or licking a grazed or bleeding arm. The taste of iron and copper on his tongue was as familiar to him as chocolate. Especially since he'd spent his meagre savings on the skateboard he now regularly rode to school.
And then he learned something that made his stomach turn.
After that eye-opening encounter in the library, each time he tasted that distinctive metallic tang, he felt a twinge of guilt and vague disgust and trepidation. It suddenly seemed wrong, unclean, to act the way that vampires do.
He mentioned later how it felt like there were pop rocks in his veins, but at the time he'd been much too engrossed in the milk pale body covering his.
The bite had been instinctive. The need to mark that flawless ivory skin was irresistible. The rush of demon blood into his mouth had been sublime.
Afterwards he traced the healing punctures with his tongue, whispering quiet apologies and regret. Urgent fingers tangled in his hair and drew him back.
"You'd best not mean that, luv, I haven't felt like that in years. Once I fix this chip you'll understand."
The first post mortem sip from his beloved Sire made Xander moan in ecstasy. A thousand different tinctures fought for dominance on his tongue.
Rich and powerful, strong, sweet and threaded through with spice, Aurelius blood had made its latest conquest.
Though Sire's blood was certainly the best beyond compare, human was ambrosial when fresh. In contrast, cow and pig in plastic packages was foul, and Spike made sure he tasted every one so he would know. A rank, disgusting lesson, but still a lesson learned.
Together they would never drop their guard. They were unstoppable.
The Scourge of America.
The closing time for sign-ups for "The Colour, Sound, and Random Object Spander Ficathon" has been pushed back by 24 hours. It is now open until midnight, GMT, on Sunday 16th January. Fic is due on Saturday March 5th.
Assignments will be sent on out Monday.