Can I Lay In Your Bed All Day?


A/N: This was inspired by the Fall Out Boy song, 'Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner'


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Keep quiet,
Nothing comes as easy as you.
Can I lay in your bed all day?
I'll be your best kept secret
And your biggest mistake.




“Come on, Slayer,” he purred, leaning in close, his cool breath on her neck weakening her already-faltering restraint.

“I told you already. I’m busy.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?” he murmured, his lips hovering close to her ear, his fingers stroking her neck.

“Being away from you,” she answered, pushing him away and putting some distance between them by rounding the counter. She busied herself with the nearest objects at hand, making a show of tidying up the kitchen as she felt his eyes boring into her.

“Buffy.”

“Shouldn’t you be at home sleeping?” she challenged, still refusing to look at him, “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered lowly, his husky voice calling to help.

“Boo hoo. I’m busy. You can’t stay here.”

She had turned to leave the kitchen but before she could, he stopped her, grabbing her by the arm and pinning her to the door.

“You know you want me to,” he whispered, hand running down her side teasingly, “Just won’t admit it out loud.”

“In your dreams, Spike,” she replied tiredly, growing weary of this game. The same game they had played time and time again. He smirked in reply and lowered his head an instant later, catching her lips in a surprise kiss.

She jolted back against the door but after only a moment’s resistance – who was she kidding after all? – she gave in, reaching out for him and holding him close, her tongue battling with his as he shoved her hard against the door.



She let out a low moan as he broke away moments later and forced her eyes open, knowing even before she did the look she would see in his eyes: that look of smug pride. Sure enough, there it was and it propelled her into motion: she shoved him away and continued on her intended path, which was really anywhere away from him and his all-too-tempting lips.

She tidied a few things in the dining room, sensing him only a few steps behind her all the time, and then headed through to the living room. There was little by way of fake distraction here so she soon headed out again, both of them silent as she continued to evade him. She jogged up the stairs – knowing he would be right behind her – and went into her bedroom. She had a pile of laundry up here that needed doing and, being desperate for something to keep herself busy, it seemed like just the thing.

Her plan was foiled only a moment later though when she glanced to her left – and frowned when she saw Spike making himself comfortable on her bed. He was stretched out, legs crossed and arms tucked behind his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Waiting for you to stop pretending you have anything to do up here,” he answered, his eyes on the ceiling, before they slid to her, narrowing ever so slightly, “’Cept me of course.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her back on him.



There were a few moments of silence, but sure enough, Spike soon broke it.

“Buffy,” he called huskily.

She rolled her eyes once again and turned to him, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What?” she bit out.

He had sat up and he tilted his head, watching her with that knowing expression.

“Come here,” he said softly, holding out a hand.

She stayed still for several long moments – refusing to relinquish her power – but finally, something in her compelled her forward. She stopped just in front of him, waiting for whatever it was that he was going to say, arms still crossed. He reached up and took hold of her wrist, unfolding her arms and drawing her down into his lap. He still said nothing and she opened her mouth to berate him – but he pressed a finger to her lips, stopping her.

“Just pretend,” he whispered, eyes flicking over her face.

She frowned, but before she could attempt to say anything, he drew her close and kissed her softly. His hand swept through her short hair and he deepened their kiss, turning it quickly from something almost tender into their usual heated exchange. Seizing back her power, she wound her arms around him and kissed him back hungrily, letting the fire roar into life.


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They lay there side-by-side, silent but for her breathing. She would not look at him, would not acknowledge him – not when she was in this most vulnerable position. He had found his way into her bed and she did not want him to expect this to become a regular arrangement. It had just happened to be convenient this one time. She risked a glance at him and saw that he had his eyes closed, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips – and she couldn’t stop herself from speaking up.

“You should go. Dawn’ll be home soon.”

She saw his shoulders tense but he forced them to relax, his eyes remaining closed.

“Quite comfy here.”

“I’m not playing, Spike.”

“Could have fooled me,” he mumbled.

Angry with his reply, she sat up quickly, searching the floor for her discarded clothes.

“I mean it, you need to get up and get dressed.”

“Could just stay in your bed,” he replied, “Nice little present for you to come home to.”

“You’re not staying in my bed.”

There was a pause, but then she heard his quiet reply.

“Shame.”

She refused to let Spike make her feel bad and as she pulled on her skirt impatiently, she picked up his jeans and threw them onto the bed beside him.

“Hurry up.”



He took his time getting dressed, dragging out the minutes – and wearing out her patience. She stood at the end of her bed, arms crossed as she watched him, jaw tensed. He finally fastened his belt and rose to his feet, moving towards her and stopping within inches of her.

“You’ll change your mind one day,” he murmured almost sadly, reaching out to brush his fingers over her cheek – but she moved out of his touch.

“I have to get going. And so do you.”

He grabbed her arm then, shaking her and forcing her eyes to his.

“I won’t be your dirty secret forever,” he got out lowly, “And you can bet I’ll make you regret the way you treat me.”

“The only thing I regret is ever letting you touch me.”

He flinched, but did not break her gaze.

“Just let me know when you’ve done lying to yourself,” he whispered, brushing the briefest of kisses across her lips before turning and leaving her alone. Alone, and with a dull ache in her chest.