Willow had told him more than once, but until it happened to him Xander still hadn't quite believed it. But there had been no great cosmic moment when a switch was flipped, redirecting his orientation from strictly heterosexual to 'gay now' or, at the very least, bi. Instead, it was a slow, insidious process.
Stray lustful thoughts of ivory skin and blacked out nails caught him unaware at completely inappropriate moments. He dreamed of tearing open that tight black tee and closing his teeth around a tiny crinkled nipple laying flat against an inhuman sculpted six-pack.
The gayness just... happened.
He was fairly sure that Xander understood why he'd patrolled alone. He hadn't wanted his humiliation to be seen. There was no pride to be derived from turning other's kills; the waiting and the watching drove him mad. He had to time his strikes just right, before the heartbeats faded, and lick the open wound then share his blood, but he'd persevered.
He'd set his ragged minions to robbing everyone they could, determined to raise the money that he'd need. In the end the process was fairly simple, though expensive. Little more than flicking off a switch.
He was back.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease, Spike? Can I, just this once?"
Spike tracked the hopeful, bouncing vampire from one end of the bedroom to the other, automatically tuning out the pleading babble as he considered the suggestion.
"You want a turn in the driver's seat? That's what this is all about?"
He glanced at the bound, unconscious blond boy on the bed, and, making a swift decision, bent down and snapped his fragile neck.
"Fair enough, Xan, you can have your turn as top. But the only arse your dick gets near is mine, understood? I've heard that you're a Viking in the sack..."